“I’m never going to turn into my mother.”...but why?

“I’m never going to turn into my mother.” It’s something we all say, but do we really believe it?
Have our mothers really done us so wrong that we don’t want to be anything like them?

Sometimes I think…why don’t I want to turn into my mother? Is it something about pride, or is it the fact that I want to be myself, and I don’t want to be compared to anyone else?

Of course, my mother an I, like every other mother and know-it-all daughter, fight. We always have done, and I’m sure we’ll continue to do so, but does that really mean I dislike how she raised me, or who she is?

I love my mum to bits, and I don’t see any reason not to turn into her, as I’ve grown older.

Of course, some of us have terrible mothers, and some of us have fantastic mother, but at the end of the day, she is your mum, and that’s the be all and end all.
When I look back, over the past 19 years, I realize that never, not once, did my mother do me wrong. Every single thing she did, everything, she had my interests, and my sisters interests at heart.

I think there’s something about growing up, that makes you realize that you are growing up, and you’re not a child. You are responsible for your actions and your life…and it makes you look back on everything.

My best friend is due her baby anytime now. She went into labour tonight, and it got me thinking about when I have children.
It’s always been a dream of mine to have a big family. I want to be successful, I want people to know my opinions, because I feel I have something to say, but if I had to choose between people knowing who I am, and my family? I know who wins, hands down.
I thought about the kind of mother I’d be. Fair enough, I have full nursery staff training, so I may think of it from a different point of view than others, but it’s my point of view, and it’s what I know.

I’m not going to raise my children by what I read in some silly text book, I’m going to raise them based on life. My life, their life, what happens along the way, and if I make some mistakes, then I’ll learn from them. Luckily, I actually can’t think of a single mistake my mum made with me.
Maybe I’m looking at it through rose-tinted glasses, but maybe I’m not.

I was born eleven weeks prematurely. I was in the Scotsman newspaper, because I was so early, and I had a new drug tested on me. From the minute I was born, my mum was by my side, and she still is.

We don’t have the best relationship…I don’t feel comfortable discussing things with her…sex, boys, what I get up to on a night out…but neither do most teens. I mean, who actually wants to have ‘the talk’ with their mother? Not me, I’ll tell you that for nothing!

Like I say, she had my best interests in mind, always, even if I didn’t know it at the time.
I remember, my little sister was two, I was 12. Of course, by twelve, I’m a full blown adult. I mean we all are, right? Haha!

So my mum goes to the bathroom, and I decide I want a hug. I knew it was wrong, and I shouldn’t pick her up, especially with my tiny frame, but I did.
When my mum came and saw me, I was in for it. I knew it. She grounded me and I was angry. I told her I did nothing wrong. I told her I was just being nice, but I was grounded anyway.
In that moment, my mum says she was so scared. She was so scared of what could have happened if my sister sung her head back and I dropped her.

Now, looking back, I don’t blame her. She wanted my sister to be safe, and she knew if I had dropped her, I would be hurt too. I would feel guilty, and my sister could have had serious injuries.
I thank my mum for grounding me and teaching me that lesson.

I want to be like that for my children. I want to keep them safe, and protect them as much as I can. I want to protect them like my mother protected me and my sisters.

As I child, I was allowed out to play with my friends every day. I wasn’t restricted to the back garden, but I was restricted to our street.
My mum was trying to keep me safe then too.

I could climb trees, and I could fight with other kids, and no, my mum never encouraged it, but I never got in trouble for it. She let me take risks, and fight with my friends, so that I could realise what was right and wrong, and judge things for myself.

I want to teach my children right from wrong, just like my mum taught me. I want to teach my children good judgement, of all kinds, like my mum taught me.

My bedtime used to be at 9:30, when I was fourteen. At least on a school night. At the time, I hated it. I cried and cried because all of my friends were allowed to stay up until ten o’clock! Ten O’Clock! Why wasn’t I allowed?

My mum would say it was too late, and I had to go to bed, and I would scream and fight and stomp and slam doors…anything to get her to let me stay up. None of it ever worked.
When my mum gave me a bed time, it wasn’t for her to be mean. She wanted time with my dad, to themselves, and she wanted me to be awake the next day. She didn’t want me walking around like a zombie in school and not learning anything.

She wanted to give me a good education. I want to mak sure my own children get the best education they can too, just like my mum did.

When my auntie would babysit us, I was the cheekiest child ever. My auntie and I have always been like sisters, as we are only six years apart in age. We treated each other like sisters, but sometimes I took it too far.

If my mum thought I was being too cheeky, or too rude, she would punish me. Take my favourite toy or gadget away, or ground me.
When she did that, she was teaching me values and morals. She was teaching me to be respectful to other people.

I want to teach my children to respect other people. I want to do what my mum did for me.

Even though I’m only 19, I do thank my mother. She’s already done so much for me - she even tells me off now for staying up too late! Speaking of, it’s 1:41 am and I should go to bed! Ha!

But I want to leave you with this. Why does almost every female say that they don’t want to be like their mother? I’ve said it myself…and now I ask myself why?

Remind me why we don’t want to turn out like our mothers? I know mine raised me pretty well…

I’m respectful, I’m safe, I set myself rules and boundaries, I’m mindful of other people, I’m independent…and most of all, I believe that I’m a good person.

I believe that I can reach for the stars, and if I try hard enough, one day, I might just catch one.

So what’s so wrong with turning into our parents?