From first grade to sixth, we were asked about what we would like to be when we grow up. Most of us wanted to be a teacher, a doctor, a taxi driver, among others. Our teachers were probably trying to see if our dreams or ambitions will change every time we add years to our age.
In 6th grade, I wrote differently. Well, I didn’t really think different about it. I just felt that, at that time, I needed to write it.
I can’t remember the exact words I’ve written, but it’s about things, behavior, principles, and what-not of being a mother.
“When I grow up, I will be a different mother.” Yep, that’s the title.
At that age, I knew exactly what kind of a mother I will be for my future children. It’s clear to me that I don’t want to follow and embrace my mother’s ways. But it’s safe to say that from what I learned from my mother (and father), I taught 20% of it to my daughter but the remaining 80% is totally mine.
Nope, there’s no hatred in it. There are just some things she did for us and said to us that didn’t sit well with me but which she thought were the right things to do and say, if you know what I mean.
I’d like to think that something might have happened which prompted me to create my own style of bringing up a child and write about it when I had the chance to. But I can’t remember.
Now, don’t get me wrong here. I am very close to my mother. We talk a lot, we laugh, we share secrets, she scolds me when I do wrong – you know, the typical mother and daughter thing. She’s not perfect, I know that, but no one is.
From the closeness I have with my daughter, I’d say, I succeeded to be the kind of mother I wanted to be for her.
Our relationship is the kind where she can completely be open with me. She speaks to me as a daughter, friend, a teacher and an older sister (especially when I insist on eating junk foods!). There is no fear, no hesitation, no awkward moments between us. There is only respect.
She is perfectly aware that I am her mother first before I am her bestfriend. And that seals her respect towards me.
If there’s anything, I’d be happy if my daughter sees me as a role model in bringing up her children. With that, it only means that she loved the way I brought her up.
I’d like to hear her say, “When I grow up, I would like to be… like my mother.”
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