They say hindsight is 20/20. And looking back now as an adult, I can clearly see the wisdom in every piece of advice my mom gave, even when I didn't want to hear it. Her words not only kept me grounded and out of harm’s way, but they instilled core values within me that guide my choices today.
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As a headstrong child convinced my way was best, her prudent counsel didn’t always sink in right away. Take those many talks about being kind to that kid at school others made fun of. I lacked the empathy back then to grasp why she pushed me to look out for him. My selfish kid priorities centered only on chasing fun and friends. Yet her consistent lessons about walking in someone else’s shoes slowly nurtured an instinct for compassion that kicks in when I encounter people struggling today. The principles she planted came through in the end.
Some of the best talks came during my wild teen years when I fought hardest against structure and rules. Her dialect was the unwavering voice of reason whenever my impulses towards risky behavior took over. While other parents relied on punishments and consequences, she appealed to my better instincts with logic, patience and trust. When everyone said cracking down on me was the only way, she gave me space to make mistakes while also explaining how to learn from lapses in judgment. And I now know too well how peer pressure can replace common sense when you lose perspective.
Of course, her advice adjusted as I grew older and confronted grown-up dilemmas like career moves or relationships. By then, we debated eye-to-eye as equals with both wisdom and fallibility to acknowledge. I remember agonizing over quitting my stable first job to take a riskier passion project. She could’ve easily warned me off giving up security during a recession. But instead, she asked thoughtful questions about my vision and plan which clarified my own convictions. Her balance of probing perspective and belief in my potential guided me towards fulfillment without reckless abandon.
No matter the issue over the years, from friend drama to interviews, her suggestions emphasized patience, integrity and self-respect. She constantly reminded me of my inner light that still small voice to consult when turbulence kicks up noise and anxiety. And striking the right chord came instinctively to her at just the moments I needed reassurance. Call it a maternal sixth sense or emotional intelligence. But by truly knowing her kid and what uplifts her spirit, she tutored me through life’s obstacle course with care and insight tough to find elsewhere.
Most importantly, she set an example day in and day out. As the parent running a household, still putting family first despite a packed schedule, she personified responsibility, resilience and unconditional love. During a chaotic childhood when even my own impulses felt unreliable, her steadfast presence modeled how to show up through storms without losing who you are. And when no textbook advice quite fit whatever uniqueness I faced, I still found grounding just remembering “what would mom do.” Her imprint anchors me.
The rub about a parent’s wisdom though is sometimes advice hits too close to home. I could laugh off guidance about boys or jobs as mere suggestions. But words reflecting my blind spots and flaws touched nerves and provoked denial. Hardest then was facing that she saw my raw edges and vulnerabilities clearer than I saw myself. Yet with time, those uncomfortable callouts proved most vital to personal growth. Her blurred lines between supporter and critic forced me to confront inner shadows holding me back.
But throughout all the resistance and rolling of eyes, deep down I trusted my mom had my best interests at heart. She made personal sacrifices so I could find my own way. The least I could do was hear her out. Looking back now, I’m amazed at how perfectly her advice aligned to guide me towards health, purpose and insight. Call it mother’s intuition or her special vantage point. But by listening through my stubbornness, the compass she gave now steers life’s winding road. And when in doubt, I just ask myself “what would mom tell me?”
This is my responses to the hiver learners prompt week96 edition2
