Ever since I was a young kid, I remember being taken care of by my mother. She has always worked hard so that my siblings and I had what we needed–from things like food to the clothes on our back. Due to all she did for us, I thought she was perfect; I believed her to have no faults. However, as I grew up, I started to notice more and more that the mother I once knew was not the same. During middle school, I began to realize that she would always downplay my and my siblings’ feelings. If I showed anger, sadness, or frustration, she would just say, “That's no reason to be upset.” At first I was fine with this, but the more it happened, the less I could take it. Then one day something happened that I will never forget.

I was at my house when my stepdad called me to go mow the lawn. I did the typical thing a teenager does, which is roll their eyes when their parents tell them to do something. Well, this led to my stepdad yelling, “Why can’t you just listen and do things when asked?” He then proceeded to call me an idiot and some other names. Yelling is something I was used to. I could take it from my mom, but when it came to my stepfather it was a different story. So we argued and when I had enough I stormed into my room. I thought that that was the end of it, but there was still more to come.

A few hours later, I heard a loud knock at my door; it was my mom, and she was furious. She stormed into my room, asking why I had argued with my stepfather. After she settled down, I explained to her all that had happened. She looked at me and told me that that was no reason to argue with him. She had done it once again–shoving what I felt aside, instead of comprehending why I reacted the way I did. However, this time I was not putting up with her. I asked her why she always had to belittle my feelings. As soon as I said that, she left my room with tears in her eyes. Later, after I had calmed down, I went to take a breather outside of my house. It was there I heard someone crying. I looked over to where the sound was coming from and saw my mom crying on the porch.

I sat next to her and she looked up at me with tears in her eyes, apologizing to me. I had never had my mother apologize to me. It made me feel something indescribable. I felt as if she was finally opening up to something which I never believed could be possible. She explained the reason why she acted the way she did. When she was a kid if she ever showed any emotion she would always be shut down by her parents. She could never find a way to talk to us about our emotions, so she opted for the easy route instead. We talked for a few more hours. What I learned from my mother changed my whole perspective of her.

Never had I ever felt so connected to her. I realized that she had flaws just like me and everyone else. I learned that to really get to connect with somebody it’s important to be able to know their shortcomings–in other words, what makes them human. Instead of just hating them for their imperfections we should accept them for who they are. Thanks to this experience I was able to see that my mother wasn’t perfect, but to me this is a good thing. Ever since this new understanding, my relationship with my mother has blossomed to new heights.

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