Mother's day is among us. So here's my ode to moms everywhere.
Thank you. I'm not perfect, and I never asked you to raise a perfect daughter. I sometimes think you're wrong. I sometimes don't value your opinion. I sometimes talk badly about you to my friends because I don't agree with you. But I don't think we were made to agree. I think we were made to be imperfect and challenge each other and make each other better. Don't take this the wrong way, but I think you were made imperfect to--and for that I thank God.
Your imperfections taught me that failure is an option, but it's not the conclusion. Being imperfect taught me that it's okay to be upset, but you shouldn't take it out on someone else. Imperfections taught me that disappointment happens. And mom, sometimes you tried to hide your emotions, I think we all try to, but I want to let you know that feeling is part of being imperfect. Feeling teaches others that it's okay not to be okay, and it's okay to take a minute for yourself. I think women have been asked to be braver than we can be at times, and I've watched you be brave but at a cost.
I think when I was born, God whispered in your ear "get ready, this one isn't going to be easy." And He's right, I don't make your life easy, but I hope I make it worth it. I hope that you are proud of the young woman you raised. I hope that you can look at me and see a younger version of yourself with so much more room to grow and learn. Sometimes I feel as if I already have learned enough and that the wisdom of my younger generation far surpasses yours. So mama, let me make mistakes and fall and be heartbroken in my arrogance. Let me figure out how to put my wobbly legs back beneath me and figure out how to smile once again. I know you'll be there, watching from afar, but sometimes the help I need isn't advice or an "I told you so," it's just an "I love you" and a smile.
Yes, I expect you to text me all the typos in this post after reading this, and I will roll my eyes as I go back and fix them. You know, you get on my nerves sometimes. But I also know that I wouldn't be who I am without you. I've taken all the good parts of you as part of my own, but I also know I want to carve a new path for myself. That means, at this time in my life, I acknowledge that you are not always right. I know that you are trying, but I am too. And the little girl I once was who came crying to you when my brothers wouldn't let me play with them is still there, but she's grown. She cries about other things now--about love and life and purpose. There will be a time that she will be a mama herself, and at that time she will come crying to you about how she isn't perfect.
But, mama, I hope that one day I can learn to be an imperfect mom as well. I hope my little girl will crawl into my arms after I come home from a long day of work because she just wants to be close. I hope that when she looks at herself in the mirror she can learn to see her beauty, and I can teach her what it means to be a strong woman without imposing on her independence. I hope that she will learn to be heartbroken, to be brave, to be kind, and with grace stand back up whenever she falls. I don't want to be a perfect mom. I want to show her that I too can hurt and cry and be filled with anger, but I want to show her that emotions are okay. I hope I can listen to her needs even if unspoken. I hope to be imperfect too.
Thank you for being imperfect,