My Mother's Daughter

"You're just like her! You two are the same!" These words and sentiments are used to cut through me whenever I try to defend myself and explain why I no longer speak to my mother. An attack stating that I am the problem just as much as she is. I am too stubborn to admit I am wrong and come back to play my role as the adorning daughter. The perfect family unit. A normal family.

It is a trigger for me to be compared to my mother who withholds love and affection for other people. Someone who lacks compassion and empathy for those around her. Someone who ruins the big moments in other people's lives. Someone who verbally and physically attacked me.

It's not an accident that those words are used against me. It's to make me feel guilty or shame for standing my ground against her bad (abusive) behavior. In the same way my mother stands her ground and holds a grudge over the small things, like a forgotten invitation or a misread text message.

This isn't a grudge. This isn't the perception that I was wronged. This isn't bitterness or resentment or even anger. I am not holding my ground over something small. This isn't blown out of proportion. It is justified because your parent SHOULD NOT ATTEMPT TO HARM YOU! If they do or have, YOU NEED TO FLEE!

Parents are supposed to be a safe space and protect you. Even in the absence of the attack, my mother was not a safe person in my life. If I had a bad day, she would make it worse and tell me why I deserved it. If I had a good day, I would be told that I didn't deserve it. I had to hide myself and my dreams and my feelings from her because they were never "right."

"You want to work there?!?" A look of disgust on her face. "Do you know what you signed up for?" Any variation of this conversation was had whenever I shared my life choices. Always shared only once I made the decision because she could not be trusted in the choice making process.

To be completely honest, I don't miss her. There's not an ounce of regret in ending our relationship and blocking her number. There's not a single thing (big or small) that I would want her to be a part of. I don't want her touching my life, and I don't feel bad saying that.

However, I will say this loudly for all to hear. I will say this with my whole chest. At the end of the day, I am grateful that I was raised by her. As much of an insult it is to be compared to her, I have inherited some of her traits. Yet, there are many others from her that I have flipped and reversed to become the woman I am today.

Yes, I love exercising and moving my body. Going for walks is a top tier favorite activity of mine, and I love attending workout classes. This is from seeing my mom make it a priority in her daily routine.

Yes, I am frugal with my money. I save and try to be intentional with financial decisions. I appreciate the clearance section and sale prices. It is rare for me to buy something without mulling it over and determining how useful and practical the item is. My mother's greatest fear is dying poor, so she makes every decision to prevent that, and she has taught me to be financially responsible as a result.

Yes, I LOVE reading. It is part of my career and one of my favorite hobbies. I love getting lost in another world and learning from other people's experiences. It is part of my empathetic mindset. Growing up, my mother would sit on the couch reading books and use it as her wind-down activity before bed. There are many times when we would read quietly together.

Yes, I am stubborn and stand my ground. However, I think we do it a little differently. I am a justice based person, and I will hold the line for my morality and sense of right. At times it's due to wrong-doing against me, which is definitely my mother's trait, but I will hold the line if I think something is harming others, which is definitely not my mother's trait. I am not a pushover, and I know that it stems from the example set from my mom.

I am sure there are other positive traits of hers that I am missing here. It's hard to let the good outshine the bad once you hit a certain point, and I think that even the good traits I am missing have been tarnished with the bad traits, so I see them through a more negative light than the glimpses of good they also hold.

This leads me to where we diverge.

I try to lead through empathy and compassion. Whenever I am faced with a struggle, I work really hard to remove my mindset and perspective and think through the many ways someone else could be viewing the same situation. It's a hypothetical game to understand why someone would say or do something rather than thinking that someone has terrible intentions. Even with everything that has happened with my mom, I can put myself in her shoes and the shoes of all of the people who weaponize the idea that we are the same. I don't have to agree with their point of view to realize that it is valid and rational from their perspective. This is something that I am not perfect at, but I do try my hardest to remove myself and see things through many different angles.

In addition, I try to be reflective. If I did something wrong or hurt someone, I apologize and then feel guilty for it. Recently I shared with someone that I wrote a mean note to someone in the second grade, and I still think about it because it wasn't okay. Whenever I am upset by someone, I think through my own actions that played through the situation and how I could have handled it with more care and attention. If I am told I did something wrong, I try to think through their perspective and another angle, especially if I don't necessarily agree with them.

Again, I am sure there are other traits that I possess that stem from my mom, but I think that most of them can be boiled down to the items above.

At the end of the day, pregnancy is a risky situation, and I know that my mother was miserable with the knowledge she was having me. Yet, she still chose to bring me into the world. I believe in the right for all women to make choices for their bodies and their families, and I also believe that if she had chosen to abort her pregnancy, my soul would have carnated into some similar enough situation for me to learn similar enough lessons. If it would have made her a happier or better person to not have me, then I wish she had done that.

However, in her choice to have me and in my choice in having her as my mother, I am her daughter.

I am grateful that she risked her life and her body to bring me into this lifetime, even if I have been complaining a lot about the big emotions and how hard life is lately. I am appreciative that I have been able to learn my lessons through spite. I am determined and intentional as a result of her example. I can drag my feet when I think I am going the wrong way. I can listen to my internal compass because I knew that the external one had no clue who I was or what I wanted.

At the end of the day, I know that I am not my mother. I know that the way I see the world is vastly different than her mindset. I know that we approach people differently.

Even still, I am glad that she was the one who birthed me into this world and I get to be my mother's daughter. I am so lucky to have had her as my foil. Without her, I would not be this strong and independent of a woman, and I am forever grateful for that.