It’s said that that a girl’s best friend is her Mom. But not for me.
"Mom, I love you." This is something I have never said to my mom. I think we Malayalis lack this expressing their love in words. Anyways I do. Only once I have wished my mom on her birthday in FB with a picture and an elaborate message. After that I thought, I will never ever say this all this to my Mom in person, then why showing off? Then and there I stopped the FB PDA thing.
Growing up I was an NRI father's child. A small chunk of my childhood was in boarding and when I started my 10th; mom and siblings came to join me. From then us kids and mom were together. For me Mom was always a strict Mom. Extremely strict! She would scold me like anything if I did something or if marks turned out to be low or if some teachers complained about me or if I didn't obey her words or such normal stuffs. I was literally scared of her. I never said anything to her because I was scared of her reactions. It was known fact among my family that my favorite parent is my Dad. Because he never said No to me. Never raised his hands against or even scolded me. So obviously he will be favorite. I can't remember the number of times I have written "I hate you mom" in my diaries and scribbled it off and then tore it off too. I even started my blog only because mom read my dairies and even questioned regarding the same. I was never friends or even close with my mom.
But as years passed I began to understand her. She was all alone with three kids with no family around to help. And obviously she expected more from me since I’m the eldest. Thou not all the actions and reactions were justifiable for me, most of them were. Because the way she used to yell and be angry at me made me hate her so much and kept away from her. And actually whatever stupid things I did in life was because of that.
I know my Mom loved me the most. But that realization hit me in my mid-20s. She gave me so much of freedom, trusted me like no one else. The person I’m today is all because of her. I’m so much like her. Independent, stubborn, emotional, sensitive, hyper and don’t even ask me about the way I yell when my temper tips off.
We never understand our family when we’re young. Whatever they do and say turns out to be wrong for us then and even now at times. Maybe they’re not fully right. But they always wanted the best for us. When I was going through a hell-of-a-time, when literally everyone around me misunderstood me, only my Mom was with me. No matter what, at the end of the day they are with us, even if we want or not.
I love her. I hate her. Ultimately I love her. It just goes on and off. And I believe that’s how beautifully messy a Mother-Daughter relation can be.
P.S. This post is inspired from Rekha's latest post. Thanks to her. Do check out her post.