This is my unsolicited concession. My admission of error. I’m saying I was wrong and I don’t feel that bad about it. With most, I’d probably hate to admit I’m wrong, but in this case, I really feel like I owe this confession to her.

I very freely confess, Mom, you were right. About what? About everything.

Growing up in my teen and young adult years, I felt like my mom was over-protective and very unfairly tried to shelter me from the big bad world.

When I was 17, I had to prove to my mom that I could “legally” watch Rated R movies without her permission. At 18, I argued and argued (without success) for my curfew to be extended past midnight.

I thought she was silly when she said she wanted to shrink us down and carry us around in her pocket.

When she wanted to boldly (and sometimes a bit crazily) march in and defend me from whatever injustice was done to me, I sometimes felt embarrassed.

I declared her unfair when I noticed a discrepancy between the upbringing of my sister and my own.

For all those times, I thought you were over-protective or over-bearing, you were right to be so, Mom. For all the times I called you unfair, I’m sorry. For always being my protector with your mama bear instincts, thank you. For all the times you sat and listened to me argue and present “my case”, I appreciate your patience.

Now that I’m a mom, I see all her worries, stresses, and fears were very real and valid. I want to keep my baby girl in a bubble where I can keep her safe. I don’t care if she’s sheltered. She’ll be safe and that’s all I care about. Yes, I know I need to let her go out into the world to become a well-rounded individual, but that doesn’t mean I can’t wish to shrink her down and carry her around in my pocket. I worry constantly about her. I think about the future and I have anxiety imagining her at school away from me, driving, dating, moving out. I half-jokingly say I wouldn’t mind if she lived with us forever.

Now that I’m a mom, I see my baby’s unique personality and I realize that there’s no such thing as treating her fairly or unfairly. She needs care specialized for her personality. If we have another child, that child will need care specialized for his/her personality. Upbringings may not always be the same, but the love is always equal.

By allowing me to express my opinion, no matter how wrong it might have been, my mom raised me to be a problem solver, an independent thinker. I hope I can do the same for Jeannette, because when I think back to my many cries of injustice, I don’t know how my mom didn’t roll her eyes at me or just snap and tell me to be quiet.

As a girl full of teenage angst, I often felt alone. I put this on myself,because my mom was always there for me. As an adult and a mom, I know I will never feel alone, because she knows what I’m going through and what I’m feeling. I don’t know how a mom survives raising her child to let him/her go. I don’t know how I’ll do it, but I know she’ll help me and support me.

I feel so connected to my mom. Every new feeling I express, she knowingly smiles and nods. For all I didn’t understand growing up, I now clearly see her intentions. I know everything my mom has ever done for us has been out the deepest strongest love. I think about how much I love Jeannette and I’m blown away because I now truly understand how much my mom loves me.

Even though no one is perfect, Mom, everything you did for me growing up was right. I love you.

Jeanne Licea

Jeanne Licea

 

I enjoy writing, so with my family’s encouragement, I began a blog. My first blog, I Dream by Jeanne, is about my vivid strange dreams. My newest blog, There Once Lived a Girl, is inspired by my every day life. If you’re so inclined, check out my latest blogs. Maybe you’ll relate, maybe you’ll get a laugh, or maybe you’ll think I’m crazy. Either way, I hope you’ll be entertained!