To some girls, their mom is their best friend. A confidant. A shoulder to cry on. Saying my mom and I were close when I was growing up, especially once the teenage years rolled around, would be quite the exaggeration. She had rules and expected them to be followed; I heard those rules loud and clear and was hell-bent on breaking every last one of them. You see the disconnect?
When the end of last summer rolled around, tensions between us were at an all-time high. Rarely did we agree on things, but our arguments were worse, tenfold, in my anticipation of leaving home. We are so undeniably different that I often thought we’d never have a healthy relationship. I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of that small town and the hell out of my mother’s house. So off I went. My parents moved me into Regan 134, all the while I was trying to hurry them out the door and back to Massachusetts.
It took a very short amount of time after that for me to realize what I’d done.
By the end of the first month of school, I looked forward to when my mom would call and check in. She’d ask how I was surviving solely on Pryz grilled cheese sandwiches, ask if there were any cute boys on the crew team, ask to FaceTime so I could talk mostly to my dog instead of her (priorities, am I right?).
It took me leaving to realize just how good I had it. Whenever I came home, whether that be for a regatta in Boston, Thanksgiving break, or a month-long vacation at Christmastime, we were so much more at ease around each other. No more walking on eggshells. She no longer micromanaged me and I no longer left dirty dishes on the kitchen counter for days on end. I, for one, did a whole lot of growing up. But in a way, I think she did, too.
For those mothers that are pulling their hair out trying to raise a perfect teenage daughter: You can’t. You won’t. But send them off into the world knowing you tried your damnedest and if they turn out at least a little bit okay, it’s all thanks to you.
For those daughters that are ready to push their mom off a cliff: Take a few steps back. Take a good, hard look at what you have and really appreciate it before you’re out in the big, bad, adult world all by yourself. Your mom does what she does because she loves the heck out of you.
And to my mom specifically: I know there are countless things that we will never in a million years agree on (like the tattoo in my mouth, surprise!). But looking at the big picture, they don’t matter. We’re stuck with each other for life and I've decided I'm pretty okay with that!
