My Mother

When it comes down to it, my mother and I are very much alike. Physically, we have the same facial features, blue eyes and a rounded face. We proudly wear well polished noses that fit out delicate faces and broad cheekbones. Though we have completely different hair colors and our body figures aren’t much the same, mine being that of a taller athlete and her a shorter, thinner version of a housewife, she has given me her genes and I am a carbon copy of what her and my father have provided for me. In reality, we have the same political views, the same tastes in music, and if she were my age, she would probably be my other half. She has this voice that just sounds like a mother’s voice, when I hear her I know everything is going to be okay. She gives me the sort of comfort I can’t get anywhere else. If anything, my mother is my best friend, and that phrase sounds a little cliché, but there’s no other way to say it.
In many ways we have the same interests and dreams. I’m what she’s always wanted, the college student living the college life wanting to study abroad and become a doctor. She’s a woman whose dream was to become a mother and be in a loving marriage. This is where we differ, though, because my desire is not to be a mother, and marriage will happen much later in my life. She is a well brought up middle class woman who has had a pretty fulfilled life. She’s happily married and very much in love with five children who adore her. In this way, my mother lived out her life’s dream, where as I am only beginning my journey. I’ve learned my morals and beliefs from my mom. She set the standard and I followed suit. She taught me to think highly of myself and where I should be placed in modern society, working hard for my place. Both of my parents have given me the freedom to believe what I like, even though they didn’t teach me to believe in organized religion, together they have taught me to hold my head high and own up to my opinions.
Over time, my mother has helped me discover many things, but I’ve always been able to speak my thoughts around her. She gives me the insight of forty-something years of experience when the sixteen years of my youth are not enough. She’s sacrificed everything in order for me to have a good life. When I was younger, I didn’t really realize just how much she had given up for these sacrifices to be worth while. She pushed me when I hated her for it, and now I look back and see how much it was all worth it. Compared to my sister, I’m something like the “good child.” I get the good grades and join all the right clubs so that I will have the chance to get accepted into one of the premier Universities of the world, and this desire is all thanks to my mom.
My mother is an amazing person, she is like no one I’ve ever met before and she supports me in everything I do. Over time, we’ve become closer and out of anyone in the world, my mom would be the first person I would call if anything major happened in my life. When I was younger, I thought being best friends with your mom was dorky, and that I would never be that close to my mom. As I look back on my attitude about it now, I just laugh because I couldn’t ever think of our relationship being any better.