I often say I’m a Type A parent—structured, focused, goal-oriented. But I come by it honestly. My mother was the same. She was a high-achieving, emotionally intelligent woman who expected nothing but our best. She shaped me into who I am today. And I, in turn, passed on those values to my children.
My husband and I were the classic “tennis parents” and “dance parents.” We invested our time, energy, and finances into shaping our kids—not just to win medals or ace performances, but to give them skills for life. We believed dance and tennis could be more than just extracurriculars. They could be secondary incomes, lifelong hobbies, forms of fitness, or simply a source of joy. We wanted to equip them to be strong, expressive individuals—able to lead, perform, coach, and contribute.
Then, life happened.
Academics took over. Career goals became priority. Dance and tennis faded from the calendar. And if I’m honest, I was deeply disappointed. I missed the rhythm of rehearsals and tournaments. But more than that, I feared the passions we nurtured had been left behind.
And then, this weekend happened.
My daughter returned home to perform Indian classical dance at her alma mater’s Golden Jubilee celebration. My son came down for the weekend—just to be there, to cheer his sister on. That alone filled my heart. But then he said something unexpected: “I’ve decided to start coaching pickleball at my friend’s club.”
That’s when it hit me: nothing is ever really lost.
They may have taken a break, but the values, the training, the love for the game and the art—it stayed. And now, in their own way and time, they’re circling back to it. Not because we pushed. But because it became part of who they are.
As a parent, you never know what will stick. You hope. You try. You sometimes worry you pushed too hard—or didn’t push enough. But when your child, now a young adult, takes something you planted years ago and makes it their own… that’s when you know you did okay.
We can’t control the outcomes, but we can create the environment. That’s what my mother did for me. That’s what I’ve tried to do for mine. Whether they dance on stage or coach on a court—it’s not about the spotlight. It’s about watching them step into their own light.