Monday, February 25, 2008

Moms are moms.

Moms are moms. When you’re little, they teach you that everything in this world is good. You are taught that people are kind even if we live in this dangerous world. it is you’re parents that tell you that. Also, you consider you’re moms the best epitome of idealism and believed that they are “super” heroes. In my case, when I was little I have always considered the world as being just and kind and that my parents were the angels sent to the world to make life great. The one (of the best people) hero I consider is my Mom. In my case, I considered my mom as my guardian angel sent by God to protect me and make my life great. My mom was my first teacher. She was the first person who taught me to speak, write and read. She was the one who assisted me through my elementary days – maybe without her continuous support I would never had made it as salutatorian in my elementary days and graduated with honors in high school. But life isn’t always the way we want it to be – cliché but true. When my adolescence/teenage years came – things started to change. I have had problems of my own – insecurities and all – which I wanted to resolve by myself. In effect, this decision led me to distance myself a little bit with my mother. I wanted to get solo. I realized seeing from my parents that being parents is an experimental thing; no one really knows the perfect/right method/combination of parenting for every child has always been different and unique in every way. I have perceived my mother as not being able to understand me. Growing the opposite of the life she had; I thought that it would be difficult for her to understand my inhibitions. She had a to-die-for beauty indifferent to mine; always being compared to her was one of insecurities. My mom was an easy going person; I was more of the conscious one. At that time, everything I had was envious of her and of what she had once had. I just plainly considered myself as a shame. I started to keep things from her; I started to discover things on my own. I didn’t do drugs, I didn’t do sex. I just made myself me. But I realized being solo isn’t the best idea after all. My family is all I had. I couldn’t identify myself without my family. I realized that I couldn’t make it on my own. I needed my mom to back me up when I am lonely, when I needed support, when I needed someone to fight for me, someone to provide me the essentials of life; when I needed a mom In the end I realized, I needed her. Despite all the criticisms, problems, insecurities, challenges I had; she was there for me, she understood me and most of all she still loved me. I knew I was wrong for judging my mom and ever since our reconciliation I never kept anything from my mom. She knows everything about me and I consider her my own best friend. Other people ask me, why I am so close with my mother. I answer them one thing: It is because I wanted to. I didn’t become close to my mother because she was my biological mother but because I wanted too. I wanted my mother to be part of my life. I wanted her to know how I am and to let her know what a great mother she is. There are still things that I don’t get with being a mother – like asking too much for the details, asking too many questions, “makulit” when it comes to boys, too hooked on wowowee. For sure someday I’ll know the answers - that is when I will be a mother too. But for now, I’ll enjoy being a daughter to my ever dearest mother.

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