“Sometimes the strength of motherhood is greater than natural laws.” Barbara Kingsolver

I guess so many of you agree with me, for your own personal matters, when I say my mother is a supermom. It is no natural law that the moment a child is born, a mother stops breathing for herself and starts breathing and living for two. I will tell you the story of my mother and I since our first breaths together in a letter. You must be wondering, ‘I don’t even know her, why is she telling me her story?’ Well, sometimes you just need to let it out, for you to say and for others to read.


Dear Mom,

It’s hard for me to write you a letter, even though I find it refreshing to do so since no one does it anymore. Just like Robert Browning defines motherhood as “all love begins and ends there” (Robert Browning), this letter, like every other letter, starts and ends here, that’s the beauty of it. Before saying anything else, let me start by admitting that “in a child’s eyes, a mother is a goddess. She can be glorious or terrible, benevolent or filled with wrath, but she commands love either way. I am convinced that this is the greatest power in the universe.” (N.K. Jemisin).

I first want to say I’m sorry. I know now I haven’t been a great daughter in the past. I was hyperactive, undisciplined and at times annoying. “It’s a funny thing about mothers and fathers. Even when their own child is the most disgusting little blister you could ever imagine, they still think that he or she is wonderful.” (Roald Dahl). Well guess what mom? I wasn’t the only naughty child, listen to what Mark Twain has to say: “My mother had a great deal of trouble with me, but I think she enjoyed it.” (Mark Twain). I hope you’ve enjoyed it mom, even if we used to fight so much and only now I understand that a “strong mother doesn’t tell her cub, Son, stay weak so the wolves can get you. She says, Toughen up, this is reality we are living in.” (Lauryn Hill). You were so right though mom, this IS reality we are living in, and life just gets so hard sometimes. But when we were both living the worst moment of our lives, you stood up and I lost myself. That’s when I completely agreed with Jodi Picoult’s words saying “My Mother: She is beautiful, softened at the edges and tempered with a spine of steel. I want to grow old and be like her.” (Jodi Picoult). You already are the strongest part of me. I feel sorry for my brother if what Oscar Wilde says is true “all women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That’s his.” (Oscar Wilde).

Now I need to thank you, because even if I was lost and therefore unyielding you never once looked at me differently, you stayed next to me and waited in silence for me to find a peaceful way on my own. You knew I could make it, you believed in me. You still do. It is so important mom to have someone that believes in me like you do, “behind every young child who believes in himself is a parent who believed first.” (Matthew L Jacobs). “There’s a reason some people think they can achieve anything. They listened to their mother.” (Unknown author). I am listening mom, I’m all ears.

Even though “motherhood is the greatest thing and the hardest thing” (Richie Lane) because “mothers and children are human beings, and they will sometimes do the wrong thing,” (Maurice Sendak) I one day wish to have a family of my own, a daughter which I will not need to tell her this: “When you are looking at your mother, you are looking at the purest love you will ever know” (Charley Benetto), because hopefully I will give her reason to believe so herself, to say “if love is as sweet as a flower, then my mother is that sweet flower of love.” (Stevie Wonder). If so, thank you mom, because “everything I am, you helped me to be.” (Unknown author). And no matter where life will bring us, “no matter how old [I] may be, sometimes a girl just needs her mom,” because, mark my words, or at least the ones of Princess Diana “a mother’s arms are more comforting than anyone else’s. (Princess Diana).

Now all I want is to get up and hug you.


Your Daughter.


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