I have a confession. You might be surprised, or perhaps you’ll relate and think, “I felt the same way.” Here it goes: During my teenage years, I had a strong dislike for my mother. Nothing she said or did could convince me to support her, heed her advice, or even want to engage with her at all.
It’s an unfortunate truth that I deeply regret, but back then, I simply didn’t understand. Like many teenagers, I took my mother for granted. The adolescent brain struggles to appreciate the nuances of life, so how could I possibly grasp the sacrifices and challenges she navigated during my difficult teen years? I didn’t have the capacity to comprehend that.
That all changed once I became a mother myself.
Like most new moms, I faced the overwhelming chaos of those early weeks—sleepless nights, a constantly crying infant, and a whirlwind of self-doubt. “What am I doing? Why won’t he stop crying? Is this normal?” The irony was that the only person who had the wisdom and support I desperately needed was my own mother, who was living with us at that time. I had gone to the hospital as a confident, independent woman, but returned home feeling lost, anxious, and yearning for a bit of sanity. The very person I had resented a decade earlier was now my lifeline.
Suddenly, everything shifted. I found myself in a new kind of relationship with my mother, one grounded in our shared experience of motherhood. It felt like joining a sorority where she had been a member for years. I had entered a realm where countless unspoken truths were understood without needing to be articulated. I instantly began to appreciate her in ways I never had before.
All those years of conflict, fueled by my youthful conviction that I knew everything and she knew nothing, faded rapidly. The realization that she had been right all along, and that I had been an immature brat, changed my perspective completely.
As I navigated the early years of parenting, I reflected on all the unnoticed tasks my mother had undertaken—cleaning, cooking, driving me to appointments, helping with homework. The challenges of raising children in the tween and teen years further deepened my gratitude for her resilience. I began to see her not just as my mother but as a fellow warrior in the motherhood journey.
Now, as I navigate the challenges of raising young adults, I see my mother with a clarity I never had before. She wasn’t merely a woman, wife, and mother; she was a survivor in every sense. She not only managed the trials of parenting but thrived through them. Her experience assures me that I can endure as well, even when it feels overwhelming.
Understanding her role as a survivor has transformed our relationship. Although we still have our differences, her journey reassures me that I can also navigate this motherhood marathon. I cherish her as my cheerleader and emotional guide, confident that just as she survived, I will too.
There’s so much to learn from those who have persevered: faith, grace, humility, and an unyielding spirit. On days when I feel overwhelmed and question my ability to raise well-adjusted young humans, I call my mom. “You’re going to finish this race,” she reassures me. “If I did it, so can you. You’re far stronger than I ever was.”
In those moments, I find the strength to keep going. Thank you, Mom, for being my anchor in this unpredictable sea of motherhood and helping me survive.
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Summary
This article reflects on the evolution of the author’s relationship with her mother, highlighting the transformative journey from teenage resentment to profound appreciation. Through the lens of motherhood, she recognizes her mother’s resilience and the lessons learned about survival and strength.