Belief in another.

My mom has her own unique way of showing me, her eldest daughter, that she believes in me. I like to call it tough love with little bits of help sprinkled in.

As I reminisce through my life, I remember countless times where she helped to get me out of a jam- up to a point- giving me the bare minimum of what was required to get myself out of said jam, and the rest? Well, that was up to me to figure it out.

And I did, all the while not realizing what mom was trying to tell me, fighting her every step of the way with a huge attitude.

In my present situation at the age of 49, I find myself in a bit of a jam and was in conversation with my Mom about it a few weeks ago. This conversation led to me leaving in a huff, saying not so great words. I didn't realize what Mom was trying to say and took it personally as well as thought she didn't believe in me. We text eachother every day and for the next week or so it was stilted messages, small tak, with an underlying tone of uncomfortable.

It was about the second week in (this now being the third week) that I began to understand my Mom's language of love and belief. All of her life she has helped me out, never saying the words, 'I love you' too often. It was her actions that showed her love and her belief in me. Mom knew beyond a shadow of doubt that I'd be able to get myself out of whatever predicament.

She knew because that's how she lived her younger life. Leaving home at the age of sixteen forced Mom to figure it out. I now finally see that Mom was grooming me to be a self-reliant, resourceful, smart woman who never gives up, no matter what the situation. I can now see how my Mom see's me; I can put myself in her shoes and look at myself with belief, resourcefulness, and a winning spirit. And I can appreciate her tough love.

Mom helps me out now by doing random things like buying me cat litter, or getting free groceries at the store. I don't exactly know how she does it, all I know is every week I come home with a bag filled with all sorts of items. Or she'll say things like, "You could buy a camper and park it in our driveway. You'd have free range of the house and live in the camper."

Now that I understand her language of love and belief, I don't take the camper comment personally, I simply chuckle and under my breath utter a prayer of thanks that Mom is still around to show off her tough love.

As a result, I turned out like my Mom. I too show tough love to whomever I'm close with which can often lead to arguments, discord, and break-ups. I've yet to get to the place where I'm softer with my tough love; I'm still in a postion of rough, tough love. I give zero breaks, probably because I give zero breaks for myself and cringe when I hear any excuse. I'm hoping I'll soften as the years move on into the version of what my Mom now has.

Tough-love with little bits of magic sprinkled in.

Thanks Mom for intuitively raising me the way you did, not backing down even when it must have been challenging, and sending me little love gifts along every step of the way.

Love ya Mom.