Eventually, I grew up a little and realized the importance of never letting the women who matter most in life slip away.
Every day I wake up and realize one thing: I am more like my mother than I am like anyone else.
I find myself sitting in restaurants we used to frequent as the younger, less developed versions of ourselves; and instead of blushing harder than the tomato on my plate when my mom speaks up about a minor inconvenience, I find myself doing the same. I wonder as my hair turns darker and my eyes a newfound shade of emerald green that clearly represents the depths of my mom: when did I transform from my mother’s daughter to my mama’s best friend?
Prior to the adult-ish realizations I now have as a twenty-one-year-old woman, my childish behavior and dramatic need to parade around like a moody teenager completely blinded me from what I needed at that point in my life. I very vividly remember my mom telling me to not call her mother. The word felt stiff and uncomfortable and served as the textbook version of what she really was: my mama. Language speaks volumes and the overflowing mess that was our relationship was beginning to drown both of us in a sea of madness.
We were two strong, independent women living under a roof with my two younger brothers. As the oldest and only daughter, I felt a need for responsibility for a multitude of things that were indeed not my responsibility at all. We acted more like a married couple than anything, and I tried to star in a show that I was not the main character of. I was driven by the desire to take control left by the absence of another parental figure. Instead of leaning on one another to fill these absences, our heads collided causing a dizzy haze of confusion on why we did not get along. But I wouldn’t change this moment of madness for anything because it brought us to where we are now.
When I came to Temple University, everything changed. While I feel like the cliche of a college student by saying those words, they hold the absolute truth. I had a clearer read on who I was as a person. I learned how to be more patient. I learned how to love more freely and trust more frequently. I think the most important thing I’ve learned so far is how to open myself up to those who care about me most. I’ve grown to prioritize the people who have taken care of me and weed out those who couldn’t care less.
The figure I held my mother true to for too many years was torn down and rebuilt as the mama I know now. This reconstruction took its time but was built from the ground up out of shared experiences we always knew we had. From our mutual love of the same kinds of music, movies, boys, foods, and hobbies, our admiration for one another continues to flourish into a garden of friendship.
This October, we went to our first concert together since the 2012 Red Tour for Taylor Swift. She drives a total of four hours just to come see me on my birthday weekend. She is crazy and fun and has taught me everything I know about the ways in which to love and live life. She is my sister over my twin as our differences keep each other sane. I have learned the importance of indulgence in life, while I offer her a sense of level-headedness. Together we are learning how to occupy the spaces in which our larger-than-life personalities take up. The unique blends of our adulthood personalities create the perfect mashup of good vibes and utter craziness. I would not want it any other way.
I think of her every time I hear the GooGoo Dolls, in every shade of green, and in every glance in the mirror.
Growing up in two separate places drew us together in a parallel line. We learned to exist apart but still remained side-by-side. Everything I have now, I’ve gotten it from my mama. Yes, this includes my fantastic looks and loud mouth. Thanks, mama. I owe it all to you.