Before I had kids, I imagined that I would somehow create these future super children who were well-rounded in every way possible. They would be forced into Chinese school, read and know their multiplication tables by the time they were 4, play every sport, know martial arts, and be versed (and talented) in music and art.

They would be me but on steroids and 50 million times better because they would have the benefit of me as a parent.

My children would be amazing. And really, really good-looking.

I know. I sounded awful.

[clickToTweet tweet=”I have decided to parent out of a place of plenty instead of out of fear. Because ultimately, that’s where Tiger #Parenting comes from. #Fear. #tigermom #untigering” quote=”I have decided to parent out of a place of plenty instead of out of fear. Because ultimately, that’s where Tiger Parenting comes from. Fear.” theme=”style1″]

The childhood I imagined for them was what I wished for myself. I was good at Chinese and reading and math and music (I was a pretty awesome kid) but I wanted to be good at sports and popular and kickass, too. Plus, I didn’t want to burn them out as I molded my children into future Sydney Bristows (but minus the spying and dying and identity problems).

I wanted to blend the best of what I considered an “Asian” upbringing but with elements of “American” childhood such as love and affection and sports. I won’t even get into how rife with stereotypes my vision of parenting was, but suffice to say, I expected my children to excel academically (as if there were any other option for an Asian kid) as well as be all-American as only white suburbia can claim to be.

I underestimated my own laziness. (Also, I did not expect to rebel so much.)

In some sense, my children are still a wish fulfillment of the childhood I wanted – except with less violence and instability. However, I have found that the more children I have and the more I know, the more I am just backing off.

Yes, yes. I am super hard-core about Chinese learning for my kids. But I think other than that, I have exhausted all my inner Tiger parent.

I have decided to parent out of a place of plenty instead of out of fear. Because ultimately, that’s where Tiger Parenting comes from. Fear.

[clickToTweet tweet=”I want to gift my children the #superpower of discovering their talents and interests on their own. I want them to know that the deadline to be amazing by 18 is artificial. #parenting #untigering #tigermom” quote=”I want to gift my children the super power of discovering their talents and interests on their own. I want them to know that the deadline to be amazing by 18 is artificial. ” theme=”style1″]

Fear that in order to provide a good future for our children, we must cram as much awesome into them until they hit 18 so that they can go to Harvard and then make a lot of money so that they can have a stable and happy life.

Fear that the only way Asian Americans can insulate ourselves from racism and prejudice is to embrace wholesale the lie of respectability politics and become so excellent that education and class will be enough of a safety net if race cannot win the day.

Fear that our children are not to be trusted with what they want or desire so we will give them the correct wants and desires. We will give them the talents they should have.

I want more for my children. I want so much for them that I am willing to forego the status of my children being amazing at every possible subject under the sun.

I want to gift my children the super power of discovering their talents and interests on their own. I want them to know that the deadline to be amazing by 18 is artificial. Their lives do not have to peak right before college. They have the rest of their lives to learn and grow and be awesome.

[clickToTweet tweet=”I wanted to blend the best of what I considered an “Asian” upbringing but with elements of “American” childhood such as love and affection and sports. I won’t even get into how rife with stereotypes my vision of #parenting was.” quote=”I wanted to blend the best of what I considered an “Asian” upbringing but with elements of “American” childhood such as love and affection and sports. I won’t even get into how rife with stereotypes my vision of parenting was.” theme=”style1″]

Yes, there will be times when they have to acquire knowledge they personally wouldn’t go out to seek, but because they want to do something that requires that information, my children will not be burnt out from a youth of enforced learning.

I want my kids to know, deep in the core of their being, that learning for the joy of discovering new things is a lifelong process. I want them to approach life from a place of plenty and wonder instead of from fear, lack, and never being good enough.

They have all the time in the world. And they are enough.