The book I am reading told me to make a description of the mother I feel I was missing when I was younger and am lacking currently. This is not easy, but then again it really isn't hard either. What the challenge is, for me, is the taboo of talking about my mother in a way that is less than formidable. I have this place to escape to. Not many people know it even exists. When I write, they may see it but they probably won't. It is as good as a diary.
The mom I wish I had:
She cares about me first, and herself second.
She gave me space to grow up, guiding me but not leading me. Letting me grow into my own person.
She gave me personal space, not intruding into my things and asking questions I didn't feel comfortable answering.
She allowed me to make my own mistakes, without expecting me to be perfect.
She showed me how much she loved my dad, physically, by giving him affection but did not share their trials and tribulations, their personal business with me.
She showed me she loved me, all of me, by never criticizing who I was on the inside or the outside.
She loved herself, and had self confidence. Even though sometimes she probably doesn't always THINK she is gorgeous, she always exuded a level of confidence and self value. Accepting where she is and who she is.
She kept the house clean but didn't get upset when things weren't perfect.
She never judged anyone for anything. She gave everyone the opportunity to be who they were and respected them even if she did not agree with them.
She didn't keep important things from us. She made sure we knew what the truth was, always.
She always made time for me, even when it was not good for her.
She kept my personal things private. If I went to her for something she loved me through it, even if she didn't accept it, and respected it was my issue not sharing it with her friends and family.
She is peaceful. Always such a peaceful and loving person to be around.
Her love is unconditional. Anyone and everyone is welcome, and loved.
She was my mother first, not my friend.
She went to her counselor and friends for help, not me.
She encouraged me to try new things, even if she thought I might fail.
She never once made fun of me. Teasing in fun was fine, but the instant she knew something bothered me it ceased. She loved me entirely for who I was not for what I did.
She treated me and my brother equally, she encouraged my dad to as well.
She allowed me to have secrets.
She was honest about sex, but didn't ask for details.
She taught me about healthy living, eating, working habits... not in diet form but just HEALTHY
She allows me to reach out to HER and lets me have distance as an adult. OF course she worries, but she doesn't put that pressure on me.
This is just a few, for now.
I will revisit this.
ANGEL
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