Three letters that still make my heart race.
When I was a kid, PTMs were never a good day for me. I was an average—sometimes below-average—student, and every meeting followed the same script. Teachers would patiently explain that I needed to work harder. They were kind, mostly. But what waited for me at home was another story altogether.
Once we returned, everything I loved was taken away.
No TV time.
No snacks.
No family time.
I was isolated with books and expectations, and that routine continued until the next PTM—where the cycle would repeat again.
At one point, my teachers themselves started worrying about PTMs. If I failed, I’d be yelled at in school, in front of other parents. If I just managed to pass with bare minimum marks, I’d still be yelled at. That’s something teachers usually discourage, but it happened anyway.
And the worst part?
Once the PTM was over, the teasing began.
Students would talk about how my parents reacted. How I stood there helpless. Even juniors would peek into the classroom just to see what really happened. I carried that shame quietly, year after year.
Even now, just thinking about it makes my heart heavy.
Some pains don’t fade—they just learn how to sit silently inside you.
It’s been almost 16 years since I finished college.
And now, I attend PTMs again—this time as a parent.
You’d think it would feel empowering. Healing, maybe.
But honestly?
It’s even scarier than before.
Now, Let’s Talk About the New Kind of PTM Trauma
At my daughter’s PTM, I confidently complained to her teacher: “She’s always on the mobile.”
My daughter, without missing a beat: “My mom and dad also watch reels all the time.”
The teacher gently suggested that my daughter should watch only kids’ cartoons, phonics videos, and children’s channels on TV.
My daughter immediately added: “My mom watches Bigg Boss all the time.”
The room burst out laughing.
I wanted the floor to open up and adopt me.
It’s been three days since that PTM.
And here’s the plot twist.
My daughter has completely stopped using mobile phones.
Like… 100%.
No negotiation. No drama. Full discipline. I’m shocked and impressed.
But she does watch TV.
And I?
I’ve stopped watching all my favorite shows.
Especially Bigg Boss.
Not because I suddenly found inner strength.
But because I’m genuinely scared that she’ll go back to school and report: “My mom is watching again.”
So here I am, wondering…
Will I ever attend a PTM without fear?
Will my heart ever feel relaxed in those tiny school chairs?
Or is PTM anxiety just something we inherit—from student to parent?
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