Something always lured me to my mother’s heels as a child. Though oversized for my feet at the time, it never stopped me from putting them on and strutting as much as I could before inevitably stumbling over, leading to the end of my glamorous escapades. I wanted to feel like how I saw her: beautiful, powerful and embodying strength. She showed me how beautiful life could be. She introduced me to women who, like her, were unapologetically themselves. I would get so excited every winter when the Victoria’s Secret fashion show would come on, sitting on the couch with her as I watched in awe at the sheer power each woman held. I even remember once, crying over my grandma having to leave, and my mom consoling me with the simple words, “We can watch the fashion show.”
I always knew there was something different about her and me, as I compared us to other kids and their moms. Most people didn’t go out with their mom and have others mistake her as a sibling. As I got older, I’d often hear people think we’re friends, and the shock on their face when they found out she was my mom would always manage to get a giggle out of me. Smile lines and grooves in her forehead hadn’t yet set in; all signs of her age read she was just another young adult, trying to get through school and pursue her career, which was true. Only being 17 years older than me, she was but a kid who was still learning, trying to teach her child the same things she was also figuring out. I’d always get this feeling when I told people her age and how she was so young, like I was proud of it. No, I’m not saying teen pregnancy is something to necessarily be “proud” of but it was the fact that she managed to finish out high school while pregnant, and then continue to pursue a career in nursing that made my heart swell at all she’d accomplished. You can feel however you’d like about it but being the same age now as she was when she had me, I know I wouldn’t have been able to do it. I can barely keep up with all of the tasks I do just to prepare myself for college, adding a baby to the mix? With the judgment that high schoolers have no problem passing on to others? That takes a different type of perseverance that not everyone possesses.
Graduating from high school, then as a medical assistant, and finally as a registered nurse, even though I may not fully remember, I attended each one. Going through school to be a nurse is already a challenging task, and actually becoming a nurse is a whole other playing field. With both her and my aunt being nurses, I’ve heard all the horror stories of what occurs each night. From patients who degrade them to billion-dollar corporations treating them as robots. COVID only exemplified this. With the rampant misinformation that clouded the internet, denoting all the contributions nurses were making to control the disease that was taking the lives of millions, while simultaneously putting their own lives on the line, the sheer anxiety from it all could be enough to break anyone. I’m sure at times my mom felt like she was breaking, but she pulled through regardless. Even with hands that had become irritated from the continuous scrubbing or the marks on her face from n-95 masks, she still made it through the thick of it.
As much as I praise her here, our relationship has had its ups and downs. Every mother-daughter relationship goes through its phases; being a woman and growing into womanhood has its complexities, so it’s no wonder those complexities directly translate into that relationship. While she is technically my mom, when I’ve looked at her, I’ve seen many things than simply a mom. She’s been my friend when those were scarce to me, my sister in the way we pettily fight, and sometimes I even see her as my own daughter. No matter how weird it sounds, I’ve always been protective of her and it’s hard not to look at her and, at times, see a little girl whom I would do anything for. Just like everyone else, this is her first time living, her first time being a mom, and reminding myself of this has helped me forgive her for things that I know she never did to intentionally hurt me. In the end, she is trying her best and I can’t knock her for making inevitable mistakes. There’s a movie I often think about when I reflect on my relationship with my mom, called “Everything Everywhere All At Once.” If you haven’t seen it yet, I truly recommend watching it, but there’s one scene at the end between the main characters, Evelyn, the mother, and daughter, Joy, where Evelyn says to Joy, “Something that explains why you still went looking for me through all of this noise. And why, no matter what, I still want to be here with you. I will always, always, want to be here with you.” A line that, no matter how much I watch it, always makes me cry, because just as Joy, regardless of what happens, I will spend my life looking to my mom.
While I take the next steps in my life, with my graduation coming up, I think a lot about the women, alongside my mom, who helped me to get here. My grandma and her mom, all of my aunts, each helped me in their own ways to be the woman I am today. I truly am blessed to be surrounded by persistent and tenacious women, who showed me that being a woman is reflected more by my character than it ever will be by how I talk or dress. I’ve looked to them my whole life and know I’ll continue to even as I get older and older.
