"And I'm okay with it. Before anyone lectures me about independence, boundaries, re-parenting my inner child, or whatever TikTok therapy phrase is trending this week, let me tell you something important: my mom was 18 when she had me. Legally an adult, emotionally in the same neighborhood as adolescence, and fashionably still wearing the kind of cool jeans only a #hotgirl could pull off."
"She's my mom, but she's also my best friend, my emotional support human, and the person who comforts me when I am having a meltdown - which, to be fair, is not rare. Our relationship is equal parts mother/daughter, sisters, and two women who probably should not be left unsupervised in HomeGoods. And she hosts everything. Not because she has to, but because I can't cook."
I am 41 with four children, a career, a marriage, a mortgage, and many responsibilities, yet my mother still basically raises me. My mother was 18 when she had me, so we grew up together and share a close, hybrid relationship as mother/daughter, sisters, and best friends. She hosts family gatherings and handles cooking because I cannot cook and would risk serving childish food. She provides emotional guidance for kid, work, and life problems, often speaking confidently enough to stabilize me. She also pays for small things like manicures, and those gestures have become a tradition.
Read at Scary Mommy
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