On a recent date night with my husband, I ran into an old friend from elementary school and her mother. I hadn’t seen my friend’s mom since high school. She was a mom who was always involved. She was part of my childhood memories.
We gave each other a big hug, and I introduced her to my husband. We said our goodbyes, and the two of them headed out the door.
As I sat back down in my seat, I glanced over at my husband and smiled. “She was one of my Girl Scout leaders,” I said. “She was a really good mom.”
Before I could finish that sentence, two tears streamed down my cheeks. The emotion caught me off guard. My husband, too. I quickly wiped them away.
But you see, moments like these happen when you have a complicated relationship with your own mother. Moments like these catch you with your armor off and your guard down. Moments like these expose that little girl still inside of you. And you feel the sting in your chest. An ache. A reminder of that absent relationship. The one you never had or ever will.
And you worry you will screw it all up, too. You worry you will continue the cycle. The fear of that runs deep. And it makes you question your every parenting move. It makes you so hard on yourself.
When you don’t have a good mom, you worry you will be a bad one too.
Within that embrace with my friend’s mom, I felt like a kid all over again. It’s funny how people, places, and smells can bring you back to an earlier time: a moment, a memory, a chapter in your life.
There are so many wonderful and amazing mothers out there. I looked for them when I was younger. I craved that light, the warmth, and the love. I noticed them in my neighborhood and community. I saw them in my aunts and in friends’ mothers. I saw them in teachers, coaches, and Girl Scout leaders. Great moms were all around. They were the example. And I wanted to be one of them, too.
