What It Means To Be A (Great) Mother

I can't say I think of myself as a great mother. I'm a good mom, yes. I absolutely love my kids more than anything and make sure they are healthy, entertained, educated, inquisitive, and most importantly loved. But I don't know that I have all of the self confidence in the world to boldly describe myself as being a great mother.

Part of this is because I have up until this point felt (and perhaps will always feel) like I don't measure up to how truly incredible my own mother is.

Let me tell you about my mother.

My own mother is someone who constantly leaves me in awe. She has the bluest eyes, the most elegant style, and the most infectious smile. She can truly do no wrong, ever, and anything she touches turns to gold. She is the combo of a warm summer breeze and the brightness of the biggest, sunniest sunflower. She is home. She is my mama.

I could not be more proud of my mama, for everything she has ever endured, and for all that she has accomplished. She has the most charisma and charm of anyone I know, and not in a perverse or tries-too-hard type of way. She is refined and poised, and kind. My mother has a warmth to her that radiates to anyone lucky enough to stand in her aura. There is a sense of ease and flow to her every move. She's enigmatic.

My mom is probably the only person who believes in me more than I believe in myself. She considers me to be way smarter and more beautiful than I credit myself to be…and I hope one day I'll make her proud by embodying myself fully and unapologetically in that same way.

Mama is also the most incredible grandma, and at this point in my writing I may burst into tears thinking about how lucky my kids are to grow up with a grandma like her around.

My cup is never empty with my mama around.

My soul is always at ease with my mama near me.

What separates us is I am still very much a work in progress. I think I still have a lot to learn, and I appreciate having that self-awareness. I still have some fine-tuning to do.

But not my mama. Nope. She's everything I wish I can become one day.

And maybe one day, my daughters will write to me on my birthday and remind me that I am a great mom. Maybe they already consider me a great mom and I'm just too hard on myself.

Maybe. But for now, I will continue to marvel at my great mom. Because there's no one in the world who can make me feel as loved as she does each and every day.

x, YK

This piece was originally published in Little Notes from Your Therapist.

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