I had a thought the other day, just in the middle of whatever the daily grind was. It wasn’t ground breaking but it was one of those thoughts that stick in your mind for the rest of the day.
I’m so glad my mom is my mom.
Seriously, I know that sounds like something a kid would say but the older I get I’m so glad I had her as a mom.
She was loving, but not overbearing. Caring about how I was doing at school and in piano and riding lessons but not a helicopter parent. When I failed, she said “yup, you failed” when I succeeded she said “way to go!” There wasn’t a lot of coddling or hiding the world from me. I learned early that things weren’t fair, my actions had consequences (which included being sat on a stoop with tape on my mouth for bossing my brother around (I was managing from the day I was born)) and that life is a beautiful sacred thing and we must always keep that light in our heart alive.
There also wasn’t a lot of stereotypical “girl talk.” Which at the time I wanted but now that I’m an adult I’m so happy that part of me wasn’t fed by her. I get zero satisfaction out of bitching about not finding a dress or discussing nail color or which celebrity is dating which. Sure I’m all about looking at Vogue from time to time and I enjoy the beautiful material things in life like clothing and a well appointed home but it doesn’t define me.
She also taught me not to apologize the way a lot of women do. When I was about 13 I started saying “sorry” as a way to start a conversation or if I didn’t know what else to say. My mom wasn’t having it, “Apologize only when you truly mean it.” she would say. Those words are sacred and should only be used when you know you’re in the wrong or that you’ve harmed someone in some way. I love this video that covers women’s relationship with the word sorry: (Yes it is an ad for a beauty product but it’s pretty spot on.)
As I continue to grow and encounter women in all aspects of life and then watch their life choices I just continue to say thank you to the universe for giving me my mom. She taught me that it’s better to say less then to have “diarrhea of the mouth” as her father called it. It’s better to be straight to the point then dance around subjects. That it’s best to be flexible and “just deal with it.” Life isn’t going to pan out the exact way you want or plan, and fighting it or bitching about it doesn’t change anything. You either accept and embrace the change or get dragged along. And finally, that you don’t have to show love through coo’ing and snuggling all the time. Sometimes love is shown in a half smile and a nod of the head at the end of a riding arena.
There are a lot of other lessons I learned from her that just can’t be encapsulated in a blog post, but long story short – I’m one lucky girl to have the mother I have.