Unconditional

            I’m a late bloomer in the sense that it took me till 18 to have a problem with my mom. Most teenagers start thinking early that they won’t be like their parents or recognize their flaws or tell themselves they won’t raise their kids the way they were raised. Up until really recently, though of course we had some fights and differences in opinions, I really felt that my mom was constantly right, she was my role model completely, her wisdom was law and unquestionable and I wanted to be just like her. And I didn’t feel this way because it was scared or brainwashed into me. I felt that way because I respected her more than I could fathom and I was intimated and inspired by her life and lifestyle. And I remember very clearly the moment when it dawned on me that she wasn’t perfect and that I had a problem with something about her. And I really didn’t like that realization. I felt disconnected and alarmed that we were so similar. It’s a strange feeling when the immortal being in your eyes is revealed to be only human. I felt stupid that it had taken me so long to understand. Knowing that she could be wrong and that she made mistakes wasn’t liberating though; it was scary. I was terrified at the thought that I could not pick her side in a fight and maybe be right. The thought that her expectations, rules, advice, disappointment, and anger might not be totally fair and right and perfect scared me. I don’t want it to sound like I fear my all mighty mother or that I was raised into submission. That’s not how it went. It was just that the image you have as a child, of your parents being this all-knowing power, didn’t leave me till much later than other people. Most kids have a time when they feel, from their own decisions and convictions, that their parents are wrong about something. And I had plenty of times when we disagreed, but behind my heated anger I always felt like she was probably right and definitely that she knew better. I didn’t fight that many super irrational battles that teenagers are apparently famed for, because I never felt an unerring conviction that I was better informed on my issue than someone older and wiser than me whom I truly respected. For a long time, I really believed in the phrase ‘mother knows best’, even when my behavior suggested otherwise, deep down I felt that at the core of the matter, she probably did.

            So when I got to the point in my life where suddenly that didn’t ring true, I felt like everything was thrown off balance. It hit me all at once; my mom is wrong sometimes. And there are things she says and does that I truly disagree with and disagreeing doesn’t necessarily make me wrong or uninformed. It was a strange thought and it messed with my head. I went into a panic, feeling like somehow our relationship had changed and that we weren’t as close because there were things about her that I had issues with and she had flaws that I didn’t like. And I started to obsess over those things and attach blame and link my own shortcomings with her influence. I started to come up with things I would confront her with and psyching myself out about standing up to her and calling her out. And I felt like I could never talk to her the way I used to and feel her whole support, because I would know that she was wrong about things and wrong about me sometimes. It was one of those situations where there is way too much hypothetical thinking involved. I was so scared to start my process of bringing my mom down to earth and letting her know I had problems, because I still didn’t want to have any. Looking back, I’m really glad I was scared, because that fear bought me time and time helped me think clearly.

            There has to be a time in every person’s life where they fully accept that their parents are human. And after I calmed my obsessive thoughts, I came to the realization that I didn’t need to confront my mom and tell her that she was human. She knew it, and she knew it better than anyone else. I know that I love my family more than anything else. But I don’t love my mom that way because she’s perfect. I love her that way because that’s how she loves me. Unconditionally. I knew I had flaws and I knew she had flaws and I knew we shared quite a few. But we love one another despite and because of and with all those things. Everyone has problems with their parents. Everyone has problems with everyone. But we learn to love regardless. And there are issues that need to be brought up and there are also things that are just a part of a person, and that person isn’t you so sometimes you disagree with them, but it doesn’t always mean you can ask them to change. I know that I’m not perfect, I know better than anyone else, and I know that my mom knows that too. And I know that she loves me and doesn’t try and break me down by informing me of where I fall short. And that’s where I stand now. I want to make an effort to express my opinion and disagree if I need to, but it doesn’t make sense to me to bring someone down by expressing dislike for something that is simply a part of who they are. Because having a problem with something doesn’t always mean you’re right, it just means you’re you and they are not.

            My mom is not perfect. But she is one of most inspiring women I know. She has been the most influential person in my life and I want to be my own person but I’m proud of the ways I’m like her. The entire battle I’ve had about where I stand with my mom has, interestingly enough, happened almost entirely within my own head. Putting down in words is strange, and I’m not sure if it’s the right thing to do. But it’s its been a big part of this year for me and I feel like it has to be included. Leaving home and putting myself in new situations has taught me a lot about myself, and part of that is learning and understanding the relationships and people that define my life. I know my mom will read this and she probably already knows because she knows and loves me. But this is me saying it out loud, and it’s personal and I’m sharing it. I’m not really sure why but I think it’s because I need to say it big. I need to say Mama, at 19, I know you are human, and I accept and understand that. And I have learned a lot about who I am these past seven months, and I still have a lot to learn, but the thing that I am positive about is that I love you, completely. Thank you for always loving me that way.