Lady Bird was beautiful. This movie perfectly encapsulated an angsty teenage daughter’s relationship with her mother and the growing pains of entering adulthood. One scene particularly resonated with me, as Lady Bird and her mom exchanged banters at a local thrift store, where the lead whined an all too familiar line (”you are SO infuriating”) as her mom nagged on about her impending college plans. A few seconds later, the mood instantly shifts as the tandem gushed over finding a dress that suited Lady Bird.
How often do we find ourselves in the same situation with our own mothers? No matter how crazy they drive us, how lucky are we, to have them – at any time of the day – to alternate as our shopping buddy, to infuriate us with the constant nagging, to bewilder us with their (sometimes too) tactless remarks, to question our unhealthy sleeping patterns, and to love us unconditionally, nonetheless.
Lady Bird reminded me of a time when I was a little too headstrong, turning words into daggers, when my mom only wanted what’s best for me. We rarely saw each other eye to eye growing up. I never understood her back then, I barely even tried. Cut to this quarter-life plateau and I have never been more grateful to have my mother as my lifeline, my daily dinner conversation, my very own Lady Bird, driving me crazy with her unreasonable demands (sleep on time??? drink less coffee???). But her constant nagging isn’t so infuriating anymore, slowly becoming my refuge after a long day in school listening to Socrates’ cohorts. Her childhood anecdotes and (my favorite) lovestory with my dad – easily my escape from cases waiting to be read.
Similar to Lady Bird, I have been a constant ball of angst and aggression the past few months due to emotional plateau, academic stress, and overall anxiety issues. Hard to imagine how difficult it was to deal with my 18 year old self when I am far more self-deprecating these days. Despite all that, one thing remained constant – my mother’s gentle assurance that all will be well and all will be worth it. I have no idea where it comes from but somehow my mother has never run out of reasons to believe in me, even when I, myself, find it hard to do so.
Tomorrow, I start another episode of this crazy roller coaster ride called law school. When days get too rough and efforts seem futile, I will try to be as unrelenting as my mother’s faith in me. If she can at least see some glimmer of hope in her favorite daughter, then I owe it to her, the last person in the world who will stop believing in me, to keep trying, always. Mom, this is for you.
