Back in October, I wrote a post for Lucky Magazine about my “best connection.” It was without question my mother. Though we have our trials and tribulations and we will probably never agree on appropriate hem length, she is my best friend and I know that she will always be my biggest supporter as well as clearest voice of reason.
This past year, several of my friends took the first steps into the journey of motherhood. Being around them and seeing all that they go through on a day to day basis, I appreciate what my mom did for me and my brothers even more. Being a mother is, no doubt, the most important job a woman can ever have. So, if you haven’t already, be sure to call your mother and let your friends who are mothers know just how wonderful and special they truly are. Without them, none of us would be here.
Throughout the years, friends have come and gone. I’ve met some of the greatest women in the world and called them my friends, but the one woman who stands out in my mind has been there since the beginning. She’s seen me at my best and at my very worst and never, ever left my side. That very special lady happens to be my mother. I know, I know, it sounds so trite, but it’s the truth.
I would say, I’m a fairly feminine gal, and I’m willing to bet my ruffled bloomers that my mom instilled that in me from a very early age. You see, after having two adorable little boys, she was overjoyed to finally have her own little mini me—and who could blame her? For as long as I can remember (and as far back as photos can document), I was always dressed to the nines with ruffles, bows, and anything pink. Despite my then bald head, there was no way of mistaking me for a little boy.
While as a teenager, I thought I was much cooler than I ever really was and probably didn’t treat my mother the way I wish I would have. That didn’t discourage her though. She tolerated my eye rolls and temper tantrums knowing that one day I’d come around. And come around I did.
While perusing old yearbooks one day, a friend of mine asked, “Don’t you wish you looked like your mom?” I wasn’t exactly sure how to take that comment, but there’s no denying what a classic beauty my mom is. So, yes, I would love to look just like my mom. Never wearing much more than some lipgloss and mascara, my mother always looked fresh and polished. While I’d dabbled in the overdose of makeup that all middle school girls go through, I eventually realized that my face and neck should match and learned that less is more. Something my mother knew all along.
It’s funny as you get older how much you see yourself in your parents. Looking back, there are so many things that my mother and I had in common. I remember once needing a dress for a formal and not being able to find anything interesting. I called my mom and told her I was thinking about wearing a nightgown as a dress. I had expected her to be appalled, but instead she chuckled and told me she’d done the same thing at my same age and it had turned out to be one of her favorite outfits of all time.
She’s always been my best shopping partner because I know she’ll tell me the truth without any hidden agenda or sugar coating. From highschool proms to college formals, I always knew who to ask. That’s why when it came time to shop for the most important dress a girl will ever wear, I needed to have my mother right by my side. As tears welled up in her eyes, I knew that dress was “the one.”
To me, style is innate. Every time I see my mom, she is still just as beautiful and pulled together as she’s always been. I can thank my mom for so many things: my sense of humor, my big heart, and blue eyes. What else I can thank her for? My style.