My Mother.

My Mother                                                                                                                                                                       My Mother                                                                                                                                    
     My Mother is a woman that I love inevitable. And this is not just because she's mother, and you should love your mother no matter what. I have love and hate my mother with the same intensity.
     Through the years, I have been working on forgiving and forgetting things from the past that hurt us both, only to come back, and she still does some things that remind me why in the first place, I had set limits to her idiotic words, and still, I love her.
     There are unmentionable things between us, that I'm pretty sure some or all the chapters of our lives can be at a Netflix series right now. And I still love her, so very much.
     I keep carrying these heavy thoughts, where I keep asking myself, that because I have these strong negative feelings about my own mother, could my own children have these same feelings about me?
     I know I am not my mother, God knows I pray everyday that I wont ended up being like her; well maybe I could keep 1/3 of her incredible personality. I also wonder if genetics play a big role here, and I would inherit the things that I hate the most from my mother.
     I know that I'm a mature adult, and I shouldn't even consider myself, not even a little of what she is (and maybe, by the way, that is what she wishes the most), I guess I prefer choosing what kind of woman I want to be, what kind of daughter I want to be, I choose to respect her , accept her, love her, embrace her exquisite beauty & vanity.
     For the moment, I will find a way to write more about her, I know that only writing from my little girl's heart, one day I will not depend on what she might think of me, or her approval, and maybe I will eventually stop thinking about things from the past that still linger 'till this day like open wounds. And I still love my mother like her little girl.

Cynthia De La Luz
     










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