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Tuesday, April 27, 2010

An open letter to Mom

Dearest Mama,

Adolescence is a very critical period in a person's life. It isn't easy, you know. Specially when you try to make it so difficult (peace!). Anyway, this letter isn't only for my mom. This is also for the other mom's out there with daughters whose ages range from 12-18.

Let us have our dramas. Teenage years are emotional years--and a confusing one at that. We're not quite kids, but we're not yet grown-ups either, so when I come home with a problem, no matter how silly it may seem, if we say it's a big deal, believe us, IT'S A BIG DEAL. Sometimes we won't talk because we don't think you'd understand. Sometimes, we just need you to listen. Other times we just need you to put our world back together with ice cream instead of I-told-you-so's. Try to put yourself in our shoes if you can't take us shoe shopping.

Let us have our dreams. Right now, we want to be rock stars, models, actresses, not for the fortune, but for the fame. We still know what it means to reach for the stars and dream big. We can't quite grasp the idea of "settle" yet. Let the world teach us that someday. For now, president, Olympic gold medalist, supermodel, you name it, we can still become it!

Let us know we're beautiful. We learn what's beautiful from celebs, boys-and you. Even before we knew who Ashley Tisdale is, we wanted to look like you. But you're not too happy with the way you look so we started wondering, if you're not pretty like we thought you we're, maybe we're not pretty either. It's hard enough not to be the "crush" of our "crush," but if you don't tell us that we're beautiful, then someone else might tell us we're not--and we'll believe them. We'll change for them, try to be more like them, and compromise who we are just so we could be beautiful for them. And once our self-image is shattered, it's so hard to put back together again. So come on mom, say it, even on-especially on-days is not even close to being Vanessa-Hudgens-like: "You're beautiful."

We're like you but we're different. I look a lot like you, I learned a lot from you, people often say I'm a mini version of you-but mom, I'm not you. I have my own interests, opinions and even values-sometimes they're just like yours but sometimes they're not. Differences don't have to be all bad right? You and I can have our disagreements like what I should wear, who I should listen to, and what will make me happy in life-but we can still be friends. You may hate my music, my friends, my choices, but they are my choices for a reason. Talk to me, find out why I think such and such is the coolest thing on earth, or why I like going to the mall with my pals on a school night, just this once. You don't always have to say yes--you're still my mom--but first, hear me out before you say no. All I need from you is respect. Respect that I'm an individual. Respect that I'm growing up to be the person I want to be. You may not always understand me, but I'll be forever grateful if you try.


Infinite x's and o's,
Mara