This beautiful exchange

The older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve begun to realize that I will always be my mother’s child. I find myself going through my day, hearing my mother’s voice in my head. “Don’t go outside with wet hair.” “Make your bed.” “Wear clean underwear in case you get into an accident.” I think that last one had more to do with how the cleanliness of my underwear in an emergency room situation reflected on her parenting skills rather than my own well-being.

The other day, while Tony and I were at lunch, I mindlessly leaned forward to my drink with the intent of blowing bubbles in my soda. I suddenly stopped myself as I heard, in my mother’s voice, “Don’t blow bubbles in your drink.” I realized that countless times over the past twelve years, I have heard that exact phrase in my head each time my lips were about to wrap around the straw.

Usually, I refrain from such a “rude” action, but this time, I thought to myself, “I’m 30 years old. I think I’m old enough to decide for myself if I want to blow bubbles in my drink. I should be hearing my own voice in my head.” Though it was a small moment, I think it was a monumental one as I claimed my own adulthood, separating myself from my mother. She is a wonderful woman, and there are so many ways that I am like her and desire to be like her. But, I am my own woman and need to learn to make these decisions on my own. All of these little phrases are wonderful guidelines that she has instilled in me, but it is my job, as an adult, to internalize them and make them my own.

So, with all of the womanly dignity I could muster, I leaned over and blew into my straw until that little voice went away. Sorry mom!