My mother gave birth to me and my three brothers when she was 22. She spent her early 20s raising four sons.
In what should have been a time of risk-taking and self-discovery, my single mother involved us in after-school activities, taught us about homework, and he designed our future while laying his own as the foundation for our success.
On the contrary, I valued my 20s as an unabashedly selfish time for personal growth and realizing my values, aspirations and social status.
Having just turned 30, I am now seeing for the first time all the sacrifices my mother has made for me, and it has taken me a long time to get here.
When I was a child, I believed that my mother’s purpose was to raise me
Even though my mother was young, being a parent certainly developed her character. I didn’t think he was young. She was just my mother. I treated him like someone who was not familiar with my skin. I treated him like he didn’t know what it was like to be young and make mistakes—to want to make mistakes for fun.
Most of our fights were based on my perception of him as someone hiding under my bridge of pleasure instead of devoting the best years of his life to ensuring that I they are all that I can be. It was a bridge.
I’m sorry I didn’t realize that sooner.
I spent 18 years begging for advice, love and money, then spent the next ten years trying to prove that I didn’t need him.
I had to move and do it myself
Instead of embracing my mother as a carefree friend who would do anything for me for the sake of my life, I moved to New York and I made us grow emotionally. I thought I wouldn’t be able to stand on my own two feet if he was there giving me a shoulder to lean on.
“When will you visit?” was probably the most common question my mother asked me throughout my early 20s. Some years, I even skipped holidays to spend with my friends’ families.
Maybe the guilt of everything he did for me pushed me to prove that I could do it myself. A simple “thank you” would have been enough for my mother. Naturally, I needed foresight. I needed to live life à la “Sex and the City” and traveling the world to realize that there is no place like home.
As an immigrant, “home” became wherever my mother’s heartbeat beat. Little did I expect it to be in the Midwest, where he moved in 2016 to start a business, MCC Kitchen, Bath & Closet Remodeling, hoping to one day join him.
Working with my mother helped us become close friends
During this pandemic, I faced the loss of a large consulting firm. Things got worse when my boyfriend became my captor; I wanted to break up but I couldn’t leave him.
My mother immediately gave me the opportunity to work with her.
When I took the job, I was amazed to see her transform from a mother to a CEO. He barked orders like an army sergeant and walked around construction sites like one of the boys.
At one point, I accidentally yelled at him to stop trying to help the contractors carry the cabinetry. It wasn’t our job, and he could get hurt.
“Do you think it’s me old wife?” he shouted, insisting that it was important for the manager to show that he was not too old for any role.
It was then that I finally realized that my mother was not just my mother.
Our relationship is growing and improving
On the weekends, my mom and I would go for walks to the lake and new places to eat for dinner. I identified his alcoholic personality with a spectacular “Golden Girls” binge. He forced me to get in touch with my spirituality – insisting that it was in there, somewhere.
I never thought that being an empty nester would soon give Mom enough years to come into her own. And I realized that in him for the first time.
The years of my mother’s life don’t have to be a story she shares with me, but it can be a shared experience. After all, he is a year younger than my ex.
Maybe we could reach our happy years together because – unlike my mother – I have no problem retiring early.
#mother #adopted #young #mother #helped #close #friends #adults