love will come set her free.: Why my Mother is NOT my best friend..

This is not an angry post, in fact quite the opposite. My whole life my mother has told me that she is not my friend. Ouch, right? Wrong. I'm no longer envious of parent/child relationships that label themselves as "best friends". My mother is not my best friend. I have a best friend. She has a best friend. In fact, we've probably been through several, if not dozens of, "best friends" throughout our lives. My mom is irreplaceable and more than my best friend. Out of respect for her and the boundaries we have I will never call her that. My mom is my protector, my investor, my counsel, teacher, inspiration and cheerleader. I combine all of those things and call her "mom" and I don't call anyone else her title. There is nothing I have ever needed that she hasn't provided me and she has dedicated so much of her life to not only keeping me alive, but pushing me to be an independent, driven and capable human being.

On top of making my brother and I functioning adults, I cannot begin to tell you the lengths that she has gone to to provide happiness. The home I grew up in is stuffed to the brim with games and puzzles and musicals and Disney movies and they never just sat there. Our kitchen is not just the place where my mother makes her famous salsa, but also the place where we show off our best dance moves and "cheers" every success that my family achieves. It is a house filled with love and giggles and hugs and kisses because of her.

I see it like this, if she's mean or lets me down, or more likely I do something to disappoint her, it's not like I can just go out and find a replacement. There is no one (except my dad) who has been with me since minute 1, worked 40+ hours a week to provide a life for me, answered the phone at any hour I need her.. this list goes on and on. A friend doesn't carry an agenda into your relationship. My mother's job is to be constantly trying to teach me things and help me grow as a person. At no time should a best friend be worried that you need to learn your multiplication tables. A best friend doesn't stay up at night worried about your safety or your grades,
but she did.

At multiple points, we've both wanted to run away. My mother had a strange obsession with driving to New Mexico in a Miata and waiting tables. I think when times got hard, and trust me I didn't make it easy, it may have been fun to think about if she had made different choices. She dreamt about sunshine when it was probably pouring down rain in Oregon and a quiet childless life, when the dishes were piled up and I was refusing to eat dinner. The reality is that parents leave their children every day and some stay and choose to harm their kids instead of help them. Good parents are so very underrated.

The most we've gone is a couple weeks without speaking, but we always talked it out and forgave because there was never another option. There is no circumstance where she is not my mom and I am not her daughter and that makes our relationship unconditional, consistent and lifelong and just so inherently better than a best friend.

Of all the endless things that my mother does for me, the greatest of these things is loving my dad. It didn't take a village to raise me, it took two people who truly love each other. Individually they are role models, but being an extremely bias product of their relationship, I can honestly say it is the strongest relationship I've ever witnessed. They rely on each other, trust each other and when shit hits the fan, they stay and work it out. Their 30+ year commitment to each other is the cornerstone of my family and been the strongest example of what love really is for me.

Every year on my birthday, my mother sits me down and tells my birth story. Its so so cheesy and very personal for me. Long story short, there is a seven year difference between my brother and me. My parents didn't think they would have another baby, but when their Goddaughter was born my mom and dad decided they needed a little girl of their own. (Thanks Bre!) The most important thing she always says in the story is that I was wanted. I was prayed for and wished for and prepared for. Our family was complete when I came into the world. She also commentates on how she was relieved when she found out that I could be layered in pink and that she would have a shopping buddy for life (this was before the "gender reveal days") and dad went straight to protector mode and kept asking about the color of my under oxygenated skin.

The moral of my story is that I am incredibly blessed to have been made and raised by them.

So, yes, my mother is a wonderful human being. She is beautiful and extraordinary. I truly enjoy spending time with her. Since we share DNA, it stands to reason that we have quite a bit in common. She is brilliant and my definition of class. I trust her taste of books, movies, fashion, and pretty much everything. She has given me more than I could ever repay. She is my go-to. She is my problem solver.