A while back I wrote a blog post about my own experiences with sexual assault. Many of these experiences I had not been very open about except with a few people, not including my mother. My mom learned about them for the very first time, while reading a blog I posted on Facebook.

I knew that she would read it. It was easier for me to “put it out there” for the world, and let that be my confession.

I knew she would be shocked. I knew she would feel guilty. I knew she would have a lot of questions. It was easier to allow her to approach me, than to come forward myself.

Mothers and Daughters have the most intricate, complicated relationships of them all. My mom is my best friend. I tell her ALMOST everything, and I’ve never doubted for one second that she loves me more than anything in the world, except for my brother of course. 

Mothers and Daughters have their own language, sometimes speaking with tears, and fear, and anger. Our communication isn’t always perfect, but any shock that could occur between us could never overshadow the love that we have for each other.

I never told my mom about the things that happened to me, because in each instance I was not where I was supposed to be. I wasn’t supposed to be at anyone’s house after school, or at a party when I said I was home in bed. I was more afraid of getting in trouble, and I knew that had I not been there, these things wouldn’t have happened. That does not make it my fault, but I guess I was always afraid that it WAS my fault.

Mothers and Daughters grow through experience. She said, “Now you know why moms have rules.” I know, mom. Ten years later and I know why you had rules. You wanted to keep me safe. You wanted to keep me innocent. You wanted me to never have to go through things that you had already been through.

Mothers and Daughters have more in common than you could ever imagine. The more I’ve confided in my mom, the more I’ve learned that she has walked the same path that I’m on, a hundred times over. The more I learn about my mom, the better I feel about myself. While sometimes there is a tone of judgement in her voice, I know it’s because she always hopes that I will make better decisions. That I will learn from her mistakes, some that I don’t even know about, before they can even happen. 

Mothers and Daughters will always push and pull. I can always say “what if”. What if I hadn’t been there, what if I stayed with my mom that weekend, what if I listened to her when she said “no”. I didn’t understand at the time that not being “allowed” to do something was not just a rule or restriction. I didn’t understand that my safety was in jeopardy. I didn’t want to admit to putting myself in danger because I had been defiant. 

Mothers and Daughters will always be Mothers and Daughters. One day I will be a mother, and I will still be a daughter. One day I will have a daughter, and she will become a mother. I hope that my daughter will feel the love for me that I feel for my mom. I will think back every day to conversations I’ve had with my mom, while I try to navigate the conversations that I must have with my daughter. How much do I tell her? How do I keep her from making the same mistakes that I did? I didn’t listen to my mom. Can I make her listen to me? 

At that point I will need my mom more than ever, because Mothers and Daughters we will always be.