I remember being mesmerized by my mother’s old pictures. By the age of seventeen, she was already doing photoshoots and working as a model in São Luís, a city on the Northeast of Brazil. Her big, full and curly hair would cover most of the picture and her intense eyes were always looking directly at you. As a child, I would compare my chubby self to that grown woman and wonder: Why are we so different?
When I was born 18 years ago, mom was only 25 years old. The lack of experience combined with the psychological and physical changes your body goes through after child-birth, took time for her to adapt to this new journey of motherhood. This may be contradictory to the "fairytale" of having a child we may often hear about.
Growing up, our relationship went through different and very tough phases. As a child, I used to think she did not love me as much as I loved her because her way of parenting did not match what I watched on movies and read in books. She was tough, hard on me and expected the best; she did not accept less than my best. I was enrolled in ballet classes, swimming, foreign language classes and I just could not fail. Her big expectations for me were the same my grandmother had for her, and of course, I could not attend all of these commitments consistently, while still giving my 100% best. When I hit my pre-teen/teenage years, I was going through a very rebellious phase, which, of course, did not sit well with her at all. We used to have huge fights because I did not fulfill her expectations of the perfect daughter; I quit ballet and every other sport I was in, I hated going to extra classes and was a pro at holding grudges. I hated when she compared me to other people, when she didn’t listen to what I had to say to her or when she made me feel bad about myself whenever she criticized my appearance or my hobbies. I grew up having conflicting thoughts on whether I was a bad daughter or she was a bad mother.
It was only when I left my parents’ house last year in January to move to the United States to pursue my education that I understood how much my mother loved me. I realized that I would never be able to go overseas for college if it wasn’t for her efforts of wanting me to have the best future possible. From filling out the application forms to taking me to get my VISA, from calling me every other night to check up on me to help me find cheap tickets to visit the family during summer, from working every night and day so I can study and live outside of Brazil to studying for her doctorate on weekends.
After several conversations and arguments, I concluded that my mother’s biggest sin was trying to live her dreams through me. The oldest daughter of three girls, my mother always had big aspirations. She tried getting into Med school but settled for Engineering and Accounting, after she met my father and moved to another city, she continued her studies in another Accounting school and now she is a successful accountant, however, I always hear her outpourings on how much she wanted to do other things with her life before having a family.
After I comprehended that I would not be nowhere near where I am now if it was not for her different way of supporting me, our relationship got better, we still argue for the most trivial things and my father has to intercede sometimes, but as of now, I am convinced that I am better when I am around her, as one of my friends said, “your mother keeps you in check”. Being the daughter of a strict mother, you learn that it is almost impossible that you will one day become best friends, but for sure, she will always be your biggest example and role model.
