I had an epiphany the other day, like one of Oprah’s Magazine AHHAA! moments. When I was lying in bed, trying to ignore the start of a new day, my thoughts were scattered and random. One minute I was thinking about post graduation plans, the next I was curious to know the weather forecast. No rhyme or reason to it; pure spontaneity. Then, it hit me.
As I looked back at all the pointless arguments I realized, I was missing the big picture. I didn’t want to believe it before. How could she know everything, or close to it? I do not like how she does the laundry, too meticulous. I cannot stand the fact that everything is perfection, and I mean everything. Don’t even get me started on the guidelines for cleaning the bathrooms and vacuuming the carpet; I’ll save those for another time and place.
It often seemed like all the rules and restrictions were unreasonable and unfair. No bikini until after the eighth grade. That was rough, along with no short shorts or spaghetti straps. Besides the fact that my wardrobe was restricted and carefully planned out for me, I had rigid curfews. At the time, and even a little today, I could think of a million reasons why I should be able to be out later than ten or eleven o’clock. C’mon, I mean, its not like I’m a bad kid.
That’s just the thing though. Had I been able to be a wild child, free and self-regulating, who knows what I might stand for today. I hate to admit it, but she was right. Those lectures on how to really scrub a shower actually did something, subconsciously of course. I can see how much something as small as cleaning a bathroom, the right way, can create responsibility and self worth. Not just with bathrooms, but in everything that I commit to. I take pride in what I do, and without such an arduous upbringing, I am not sure if I would be able to say that with the same confidence that I have today.
I truly believe that who I am today reflects how I was raised. With everything that my mom did, she had the best intentions. It takes growing up and an open perspective to realize this, but she really does know best. If I had tried to understand this reasoning when I was younger, I do not think I would be able to.
I realize that those rules and strict curfews were her way of saying I love you. I believe that my mom does know best. The reason she made me struggle through accepting her rules was because she knew that I would benefit in the end, even if that meant disagreeing with her in the present.
Some may think that this is how I get on my mom’s good side, but for the record, it’s not an essay in which I hope to score brownie points with her. I am serious when I say that I believe mother knows best. I hope that one day I am able to raise my children with the same wisdom that she instilled in me.
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