Mother's day is a day of celebration- and a day which is approaching rather quickly. As we reflect on this day many memories can come to mind; the first time we watched her put on makeup, the first bra she bought us (and how traumatic it was learning to put it on), helping us nurse what we felt was the biggest heartbreak ever, and we could never forget those goodnight kisses right before bed.
As I began to write, I thought of the great memories my mom and I have had.
But... Something was missing.
It was as if the ages of 13-17 were washed from my memory with relation to good memories with mom. Then it hit me, those were the teen years where I decided that my mom was just the lady who gave birth to me (and not in a good way).
OK, I'm being a little dramatic. I would still tell her I loved her before we hung up the phone, and appreciate the yummy dinners she cooked. But I was nothing short of a bratty teenager. I can recall being in what felt like constant trouble, sneaking behind her back and doing something she didn't want, and rolling my eyes at her so much it actually would give me a headache. I think back to scribbling makeup on my face at school because she wouldn't let me wear it, and telling her that she was the worst and I hated her. Just like the movies that break your heart just a little.
I dwell on these memories and I wanted nothing more than to call my mom apologizing 4 years too late, but then I realized that I have no reason to be sorry.
If it weren't for these memories, I wouldn't have the relationship that I do with my mother now.
I know you hear people call their mother their best friend- well mine isn't. Instead shes the phone call I make to calm me down after I bomb a test, she's the stylist I go to when I need some recommendations on a good statement necklace, she's the 50 text messages I send when I'm trying a new recipe and the smoke alarm has gone off 3 times already, she's the shoulder that I cuddle up to when I'm so glad to be home after what feels like an eternity.
She wouldn't be this to me if she didn't endure the awfulness I gave her in my younger years. Because despite the yelling, the crying, and the groans of frustration- she never failed to assure me that she loves me.
My mother has seen me at, what I hope will be, my worst. And never let me forget that she loves me.
This took a while for me to understand why, but it allowed me to be more open with her. Instead of sneaking around her with something I knew she wouldn't like, I found out it was better coming from me right away instead of her finding out later (because I have no idea how, but she always found things out). She has always told me that her favorite thing about me was that I'm not afraid to be myself, so why was I hiding that from her?
Being open with my mom allowed me to reintroduce myself to her, that unapologetic self that she always told me was her favorite. It allowed us to reconnect and be able to build this new relationship from the old foundation. We just had to clear a few weeds to find it.
So, Mom, I don't regret being the reason for your headaches through those years. But I do regret not telling you that I loved you back every chance I got Thank you for always sticking by me up to this point, and for telling me how proud of me you are. I know that it can't be easy having a teenager but you did it flawlessly and I'm so glad I hit the lottery getting you as my mom.
I love you & Happy Mother's Day.
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