It's really hard having my mom as my best friend, yup I said it. I am so truly blessed that we are as close as we are. We still get together two days a week even though I moved out seven years ago. We text everyday and share way too much information, I can confirm there is such thing as too much information. But seriously she is my rock, one of my biggest supporters, and one hell of a listener. The problem is sometimes I just can't help but forget that she is still my mother at the end of the day and can't always be the bias set of eyes I need her to be-- this is where the line of best friendship can blur.
My college entry essay was about a quote that I found relatable and why it meant something to me. I chose an emotional quote from one of the greatest guitarists in the world, Jimmy Page. The quote is "I'm just looking for an angel with a broken wing". This has been something that has resonated with me since I was a child, looking for someone to love and be loved by even through the flaws. I wrote a heart wrenching story of the sudden realization that I was searching for myself the whole time I was thinking this angel was somebody else. I wrote about what it was like to grow up lonely feeling like my biggest influence was the music that had swirled around me since early childhood. And what it was like leaving home so young, feeling forced to succumb to adulthood during important years of my adolescence. The essay was compelling and every single person I had allowed to read it before submitting it was moved to tears as they heard about the trials and tribulations of what growing up with little guidance could do to your soul until you teach yourself how to heal.
If there was one person who I couldn't wait to read my essay, it was my mom. Now maybe some of you are like wait, why would she want to put this woman through the torture of reading how sad she was? But to me, I disregarded the fact that she was my mom and thought that if anyone could truly understand how I feel why wouldn't it be her? It wasn't all sad anyways, it was meant to lead up to the emergence of a strong woman who looked at all of her flaws and was proud of them, because they made her into who she had become. Boy was I wrong, I don't think I've hurt my mom like that in a long time. None of these feelings were news to her as part of my own passage to healing came from confronting and working through the things that could not change, but to her I was telling the world I had been betrayed and abandoned at a young age and left to fend for myself.
It was truly an unfortunate situation because she missed the mark of the essay and took it as me revoking my forgiveness. If I could go back I definitely would have kept it away from her eyes. From all of the great feedback I had received I expected her to be proud and although she is I think it was more devastating than anything on both ends. I think it was a good two weeks we drank our wine in an awkward silence as if we didn't know what to say to one another. I'm thankful that we have made a full recovery from that little essay extravaganza but it was a great reminder that perception is in the eye of the beholder and that boundaries in our best friendship are just as important as openness and honesty. I think we both could have gone our whole lives without her seeing that, she even knew better than to snoop through my diaries when I was younger.
Comentarii