Growing up, we all swore that we would be different than our parents. We vowed to become the "cool parents" someday and laughed off the chance that we would--GASP--become anything like our parents in the future.

Well, sure, our parents seemed pretty alright back then. Even though they wouldn't let us stay up all night or eat those super addictive Hostess powdered donuts for every meal, they kept us fed and loved us unconditionally. Deep down, we knew that all of their griping came from a place of love, but still...we were somehow going to be different when we got older.

Oh, how young and naive we were.

Fast-forward a few years and here I am: 19 going on 61.

For as long as I can remember, my mom has always been a sticky-note guru. She sticks notes everywhere--from the bathroom mirror to the nooks of my folded laundry pile, she places notes, as tokens of her love, everywhere she goes. From the simple "good morning, I love you" notes to the "Be a light and make someone's day today!" notes, her messages have nurtured and encouraged me for my entire life.

It wasn't until recently that I began to acknowledge the fact that I'm slowly turning into my mother. I cough like my mother, I smile like my mother, and weirdly enough, I even sneeze like my mother.

My mother: a 61-year-old woman that doesn't look a day over 30 (hopefully that makes up for me sharing her age on a social media platform). She's sweet, fun-loving, and she lights up any room she sets foot in...she's my mother and I couldn't ask for any better.

Besides giving me her cough and sneeze sound, my mom shared far more than her biological traits with me. She shared something with me that is far too precious and genuine to ever replicate identically--her heart.

As I sit in my college dorm room and type away at my keyboard, dozens of sticky notes stuck to my bulletin board stare back at me. My favorite, in particular, rings an eerily similar sound. It reads: "Smile SO much today, that it hurts! Be a light!"

Now, not only do I write messages of encouragement for myself to see daily, I write them for those I care about too. I stick them to doors and desks. I shove them into nooks and crannies...I put them everywhere...just like my mom.

If someone would have told me a few years ago that I would act exactly like my mother in the future, I wouldn't have believed them. Yet, now, I couldn't imagine myself any differently.

Thank you, Mom, for shaping me into the woman I am today. Thank you for caring for me and, in turn, showing me what it means to care for others with your whole heart. Thank you for loving me and displaying that love in many different ways. I will never be able to fully express how thankful I am for you, but I think I'll start by hiding a couple hundred sticky notes in your laundry pile. ;)

I'm 19 going on 61.

I'm turning into my mother, and I couldn't be more honored.