You always hear people say to girls, "When you are older, you will become your mother."
When I was younger I swore up and down I would never be anything like my mother, because I was extremely embarrassed of her and her overzealous enthusiasm that could be triggered by any small piece of good news. My melancholy mood, which I like to think is the result of trying to balance out her insane amount of pep, was the one thing that set us apart in my younger years. Sure, my mother was a pom-pom girl in her high school days, but she did not need to be a peppy pom-pom girl all of the time. Some people, like myself, do not need encouragement all the time even if encouragement is welcome every now and again. The seven-year-old inside me warns me not to turn into my mother, for good reason I presume, but I can’t help but think that I have already started to become her.
Let’s start from the most obvious thing: My mother and I look so much alike it’s scary. I am the spitting image of her youth, and it honestly freaks me out how much I look like her. From our facial shape to our hair color to our body type, we are the same. I am often referred to as "mini Rhonda" by members of my family because of our similarities. I realized early on that I could not do anything to change the way I looked, or the way my mother looked, because it all came down to part of her making up part of me; thus, I was bound to share a few features with her. Diving below the surface, my mother and I also share similar dreams and aspirations.
From a young age, I had dreamed of being an author, then an actress, then a journalist, only to find out that my mother had those dreams too when she was my age. I honestly think it is really funny my mother and I have had such similar aspirations in the past. Reflecting on my past, the parallels between my mother and my personalities are extremely obvious. For example, my mother’s overzealous attitude at sporting events, specifically basketball, used to embarrass me, but ever since my sister pointed out that I get just as excited as my mother at basketball games, I have come to the conclusion that I am okay with being like my mother. My mother, I have come to see, is very passionate about life. I do not want to lose my passion for life and because I am so much like her I do not think I will so in that way I am thankful to be my mother's daughter even if she is really embarrassing and sometimes gets over-excited about the smallest things.
When I think about everything my mother has gone through and how much she had to give up to give my sister and I a good life, I begin to admire her more than I ever have before. My mother raised my sister and I by herself for quite some time, and if I were handed the same cards she was, I would not be able to do it without recruiting a lot of help. My mom did so many things on her own, and I really admire her for all of that. In short, I did not want to be like my mother at all when I was younger, but as I grow I realize how maybe being like my mother is not such a bad thing after all. If I turn out to be half the woman my mother is I will be extremely satisfied.