In battling our everyday worries, may we feel safer with a constant reassurance that our mothers indeed brought us up well

Some people say we, girls, would only understand our mothers if we become one ourselves. It has always been an interesting mother-daughter relationship.

For some, it can be a cat-dog relationship, for others competitive, for lucky some loving and more of best friends, and for the rest it is a cycle of when to listen and when to ignore. It can be testing sometimes as we grow up challenging our mother's view of how we should be raised. As a song in the movie Tangled goes "Mother knows best" - Do they?

My own relationship with my mom, as I realized, started with her own relationship with hers. Ironically, our mothers are also products of an upbringing. Like us, they have been troubled or confused teenagers longing for a mother's love or smothered by one. They have also listened to litanies of what not to do and what Dalagang (and traditional Catholic) Filipinas are supposed to be. They had their share of heartaches, successes and blooming love lives. Yes, my relationship with my mother actually started with a 'family' intergeneration retreat in Ateneo sometime back when I was pregnant. It was an effort to prepare me for motherhood. Good thing I listened. My actual relationship with her started when I realized that like me, my mother is human, was once a child, teenager, adult like me, who was doing all the best she can with what she have. That certainly speaks a lot of forgiving for what she wasn't, she couldn't be and who she really was. Writing this article also somehow affirms that.

After that realization, I started being forgiving and understanding. I started seeing her more than being my mother. I saw her for the woman that she was. With my uber busy family and work life, I have missed the days where we really spend time to get to know each other - days where we can call our mothers by another name – friend. I feel guilty spending so much time worrying about my child, my concerns, career and work, and other trivial everyday thing when my relationship with my mom could be far more enriching. I have forgotten that in stressful times, my mom is one call away, and we could whisk each other to spa and massage therapy. I forgot the times when I needed to talk it out with someone, who would not judge me and accept whatever I needed to say, she would be there. I forgot to take time to go somewhere and sinfully share indulgence in gustatory delights. I have forgiven her for the times she said I need to change what I am wearing because it is not 'flattering' my curves, in polite words, I may be a bit chubby for that dress. I forgot to thank her for the endless of times she had been there to save my heart from eruption when I am near meltdown with the little one. She would be the spoiling grandma who would solve the problem so mommy can cool off (sometimes, it is a bit conniving). I forgot to thank her for the many of times her novenas would contain the simple prayer of her daughters marrying good men and that they would be leading happy lives (and so the 'break ups from our bad boys' young adult phase). I miss telling her thank you for praying for me and blessing me with this and her best intentions for me - always and everyday.

Mothers like me seem to stress ourselves with anxiety attacks of everyday life, we forgot our number one ally – our mothers. In battling our everyday worries, may we feel safer with a constant reassurance that our mothers indeed brought us up well. We may continuously battle and justify (sometimes argue) our different parenting styles with her, but hey, be assured she raised you well enough for you to do a good job otherwise. Point taken, having raised you, she must also know a thing or two of good parenting. Little reminders like this are timely to tell us that being mothers should not limit our relationship with our own, but should enhance and enrich it more with a good load of memories to draw inspiration from. Hey, being mothers, we are considered adults like our moms. So spend time to make chismis and talk about uncharted topics unlike before when they tell you "honey you're too young." Now we have tons of topics to share and talk about. It continues with us being good mothers because of our mothers. Motherhood is an experience that binds us and which creates an opportunity for me to build a far more enriching relationship with my mom – one where I can call her my friend.*