When I was a child, I followed my mother everywhere. I clung to the lullabies she sang into my ear at night when I fell asleep on her lap. But when I grew up, our relationship shifted. Just like Michelangelo’s “Creation of Adam,” I carelessly drifted away, not knowing or maybe even ignoring my mother’s pleas for that connection again.
For a long time, I saw the lessons my mother taught me as frivolous and inapplicable to me because they came from Indian culture. While she thought that her lessons would ensure that I was always loved and respected, I felt frustrated by them. For example, when I wanted to wear crop tops growing up, my mom made me wear shalwar kurtas and sarees. Or, she would always tell me, “Log kya kahenge,” which means, “What are people going to say?” when I did something wrong, compelling me to feel a need to always be perfect. Our relationship was constant push and pull. Now I see that my misunderstanding came from a belief that the “Western” way was the only way I could live my life.
It took me a long time to understand the true culprit of our disparity. My mother moved across the ocean from India and made a new life for herself. She created a family for herself out of nothing, and she did it with a smile on her face. I never fully understood this sacrifice, until now. The joy, the laughter, the constant perseverance and strength that exists in my family is a result of her love. Although she left her family behind, she did not leave behind her values and her traditions.Â
As I grew older and eventually went to college, I finally appreciated my mom and the lessons she taught me. Suddenly, I grew up and understood why my mother had raised me the way she did: to honor family traditions and raise me to be a good person.Â
While we still have disagreements about what traditions should be let go and which ones should be kept, I now understand the importance of her traditions. Through accepting my Indian culture, I finally began to understand my mother. She became my rock, someone who knows all about my life and will always guide me. I now eagerly await for our weekly gossip that always ends with us laughing and or gasping.
As a child of immigrants, I grew up always feeling like there was a boundary between us, most prominently, between my mother and I. I believed she came from a different world and could never understand my problems. Once I realized that this boundary could be overcome through being honest and empathic, our entire relationship changed. After talking with my friends, I realized that this mother-daughter relationship I had was not isolated to just me, but was a universal experience beyond immigrant mothers. Relationships are often more complex than my mother and I’s own experience, but I have learned that someone must take the first step, and personally, I am so grateful my mother and I accomplished this. However, the only way to achieve this relationship with your parents is to have some grace for your parents and keep an open mind!