“You are my diamond”.
This was Mama’s words imparted during my 18th birthday "and remembering that moment reassures me of her unwavering love whenever I know I did something horrific in my flawed existence.
When I was six, I’ve thought of her as a goddess. My face would be covered with her lipstick and I would sneak down to her shoe rack to get on her stillettos, wanting to be just like her. Our bonding started early as I tagged along wherever she went (shopping, parties, weddings, or date with her girlfriends). I would cry incessantly when I don’t see her shadow within a short distance. I would be scared at night if she doesn’t hold me as I sleep.
That was the way things were until I reached puberty, and suddenly she became the most inconsiderate, insensitive, clueless mortal in the universe . . . but I couldn’t stay away no matter how I tried. The focal point of our interaction in the next five years constituted of introverted expressions such as, “I’m fine” or “I’m doing good” or “Will my allowance be raised next semester?”
And then, somewhere between my teens and my twenties, she became my best friend again. Because, in my junior year in college, I got pregnant. That phase probably intensified our relationship more than anything else "just the two of us in a depressing situation. Of course, Papa also helped me through what was a frightful year "yet knowing that I tainted their reputation as good leaders in a Christian community. They were censured, scorned, and ridiculed because of my unworthiness to be called their daughter.
I’ve struggled through my writings to inform others to stop blaming my family for the circumstances I chose to tread on. They did not decide this path for me. We are all outlaws of our time and are made from original sin and it is only by the grace of God if one should enter the gates of heaven. One’s frequent attendance to various religious activities does not buy their way out of hell and no human has the right to condemn any one of his brothers or sisters to a lifetime of unhappiness.
Having been given the permission to be myself was the best gift she gave me, no matter how painful the learning process seemed to understand my purpose. Nevertheless, my connection with my mother has become fuller as we went through more turmoils in my quest for independence. She has always been my fortitude in all the successes I’ve gained, and all the frustrations I’ve moved forward to as I turned into the woman I am now. My passion for all that I’ve fought for was primarily influenced by her.
Be self-reliant and determined is what women are told to be these days, and it’s good but at the end, it all comes down to our mother who is the compass we need to enjoy a gratifying lifestyle. Like all other women, I grew up with my energy turned toward men, seeking that formidable unconditional love I read in novels and saw in the movies. But I have later realized that the original love relationship is woven within a mother . . . when I became a mother as well.
That’s how my Mama nurtured me, and I hope that’s something that I’ll be able to give my children someday too
Read article from here Women's Journal |
