My Mothers Daughter

When my parents were getting separated and I didn’t believe my fathers BS about my Mum he would say to me with such disdain “you are just like your mother”. For a 16 year old girl that was devastating and hurtful. I took it to mean that he felt all those hurtful things about me too—his only daughter. He grew much closer to my younger brothers at this time, but that was because they would listen to his lies about my Mum. They were young and didn’t know what to believe.

I just spent the weekend in Ontario visiting my Mum and loving stepdad, and now I wish I could tell my “real” father that I am glad the thought I am like my mother. She is the most magnificent woman that I know. And I strive to be like her in many ways—that phrase couldn’t hurt me again. I know that my Mum was a strong woman, one who had essentially raised three kids herself, she put up with an alcoholic, emotionally abusive and absent husband for 15 years, working as hard as she could, believing that if she just worked harder it would get better.

I see as I get older how we really are alike—we get rosy cheeked and giggle after one glass of wine. We habitually cut out pictures and phrases from magazines that we like and hold on to them. We love to read, and drink tea. We laugh at nothing, we are both so silly and our husbands just love our craziness. We both care too much what other people think, we are both insecure (a likely by-product of my father), and we are both good at keeping in touch with friends. I am just seeing more and more of my mother in myself lately and I am looking back at what my father said and taking it as a compliment.

So, if you are out there, thank you. That was a compliment you paid me all those years ago.