To find the words to write about my mother, I need to compose myself. I need to drink lots of water and refresh my brain. She's a powerhouse my mother, and not in the way you think, no. She's hardly loud like my father. Hardly the person you'll first notice in a crowd. She's the game changer who only lends her time and energy to people proven worthy. Now, don't get me wrong. My mother isn't nowhere near proud. She's utterly selfless and so down to earth, you'll probably pass her by in the street. However, hold a conversation with her, even just once, and you'll understand why I respect her and love her so much, and so does everyone who knows her well.
I've always felt like I take after my father, and as such, don't need to work as hard for his approval. My mother, on the other hand, is so different to me. I seem to place her on a pedestal every time I'm with her, and consequently, strive to get up there too, so we can enjoy the views lol. Because, in truth, I crave for my mother's approval. I live for the days she tells me she's proud of me. I live for the days she applauds me for the things I do. Because her applause aren't just handed to you for free. You must earn it, and for that, I always want to make her proud.
Gosh, I'm already overwhelmed by paragraph three and I haven't even gotten to the beefy parts of the relationship between my mother and me.
Roses and Rainbows, Sometimes
Growing up, my father disciplined me once, and my mother once too. But I remember my mother's the most because I couldn't believe I had allowed myself to disapppint her. I swore to never again betray her trust, which surprisingly, I kept on doing well into my twenties. See, my mother is a strong valued Christian woman. Nothing can come between her and her beliefs. She also takes the time to instruct me on how to behave and how to carry myself in this harsh world. She warns me about boys, of course, even at my, uhm, old age. She tells me to respect the gift of life God has given me, and reminds me that I am her sweet girl, the only daughter she has. My mother balances tough and sweet love so well. I know not to do wrong by her, but I also know that she's the one person I can always count on.
Okay, I'm still speaking in abstract tense. Let's see. When I first had sex, and my mother found out, which to this day I have no idea how she did, she scolded me for it. Told me I'm a rotten girl. I kid you not, those were her very words, and I remember hating every bit of myself as soon as the words left her mouth. My mother had been a virgin bride and here I was, sleeping around at barely 20. Well, not sleeping around, I had a boyfriend whom we decided to have sex, but that's besides the point. I had disappointed my mother, and from then on, the distance between my mother and I started to grow farther and farther apart. I went on to college and did drugs and had more boyfriends and my mother could hear none of it.
Codependency, Breaking the Cycle
I have friends who tell me that they talk everyday with their mothers, and I tell them how much I envy them, because the truth is, there is no one I would love to tell my stories and life to than my mother. No one else in the world I would want most to know about every inch of my progress in life. And, when during a depressive episode recently, I attempted to take my life, it broke my mother the most. She would tell me again and again, I'm her sweet girl, I can talk to her about anything, or did I forget?
Mothers and daughters. It's a tough relationship for me and I imagine you too. Mothers and sons, I imagine, is a sweet ride, because my brother and my mother are the people that have the connection I so desire. These folks talk almost everyday over the phone for hours. My mother seems always fascinated by my brother's stories. Yes, even about his recent girlfriend who he had moved together with.
I imagine also its probably different between daughters and mothers who aren't as strict with matters of faith. If my mother was understanding of me, that I am Christian, yes, I'm just struggling a bit with being as chaste as she is, perhaps things will be different between us. Who knows? Perhaps I'm the one that's assuming she'll judge me if I tell her about the whole truth of my messy lifestyle. Perhaps refraining from sharing my life is what's holding my mother and me from thriving. Perhaps not. What I do know is my mother is such a blessing in my life. She's the person I look up to and seek advice from when faced with major life changes. Heck, she's the only person who, even with our current impasse, always has my back.
Always and forever, darling mother.
What of yours? How's the relationship between you and your mother? I'd love to hear!