How Becoming A Mother Changed My Life

When I first decided to write this, I was in tears. I had just gotten off the phone with my mother, and it was the first time that I had properly told her that I loved her. This was only 30 minutes ago.

Growing up, my parents always took care of me financially. In our family, there were my two older brothers, me and my younger sister. My parents sent us to a private school, drove us to school everyday, always provided us with enough lunch money, and always had food on the table.

But as a teenager, I always felt that my parents only cared about the financial aspects of raising a child, not the emotional ones. And for someone like me, that wasn't enough.

I remember when my mum yelled at my sister for falling down the stairs when it wasn't even her fault.
I remember my mother asking me to help her water the plants, then yelling at me for not doing it right.
I remember receiving no praise when I did well in a test or in an exam.
I remember asking myself whether my parents even loved me, or were proud of me.

I felt like my parents didn't even take notice when I did well in school, or at the fact that I studied every single day, and never touched drugs once; it was like nothing was ever good enough for them. I didn't understand why my mother would give me an earful if I wanted to use the internet for 10 minutes, when all I ever did was stay at home and study everyday. I was never forced to study; it was just my choice, because my parents had taught me to be hard-working and studious, character traits that I am truly grateful for.

Yet could you believe that, the only time I went out on a school night, was to see the movie "American Wedding" all alone on my birthday. My school friends couldn't come out with me because it was a school night, and neither could my siblings, so I had to go alone. Lol

My hubby once told me that if his parents had me as their child, they would've been so proud. It's funny because my parents never saw the positive qualities that everybody else saw in me. Yet, they were my own parents. I guess that's the thing, I was the perfect child in other people's eyes, but to my parents, I wasn't much.

Throughout my high school years and into my university years, I would get into intense arguments with my mother over the smallest things. Sometimes things of a large magnitude. I always felt that she provoked me, blaming me for things that weren't even my fault. And I thought that if I didn't say anything, then nothing would change. So almost everyday was spent yelling and subsequently, this went on for years.

It got to the stage where our relationship wasn't the only one that was impaired. My once close relationship to my second eldest brother became non-existent. He and I would get into a similar routine - arguing constantly. And it seemed that the same thing had also happened between my younger sister and I.

In retrospective, I still believe that many of these arguments were not entirely initiated by me, but by them as well. Even now, I see myself as someone who does not speak up unless I believe that there is seriously something worth speaking up about. I am not a troublemaker, I do not like to hurt people, and I will do anything to reduce conflict.

I guess the reason why all those problems arose was because my family and I thought differently to one another. Growing up as an Asian, you know that discipline is no less than strict. 95% would not be good enough on a test. That is, unless you beat everyone in your grade to do it. You were definitely not allowed to date until you were in University. And if you didn't get into University, then you would bring shame on the family.

Yet the most important value in Asian culture is respecting your mother and father. And for me, I did respect my parents, but when I felt they weren't respecting me, I would speak up. But being an Asian, that was absolutely NOT allowed. And I think that's where all the fights began. My family thought I always jumped to conclusions and was causing unnecessary fights. But I would only speak up when people blamed me for things I never did and would never dare to do.

So, even now, that's how I rationalise all that behaviour. But you know what? After having my daughter Alisha (who is now 11 months old), I've realised that I shouldn't rationalise it all or give excuses. I guess it took a lot for me to grow up. Some people need to be abused, some people to experience trauma, but for me, I needed to become a mother to grow up. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't "use" Alisha and think of her as the "thing" that helped me to grow up. She and my hubby are the greatest loves in my life.

But when I became a mother, I saw a side to my mum that I never saw before. I thought that I needed to hear that my parents loved me or were proud of me, for it to be true. I believed that if they didn't ask how I was that day or know what to buy me for Christmas, then somehow, they didn't know their own daughter.

But I was so wrong. When I think back to when Alisha was first born, I remember all those late night feeds. I remember bursting into tears, thinking how hard it was sometimes. Even now, I think about how hard it is to be a parent - financially, emotionally, physically and mentally.

And this is what makes me love my parents so much. Alisha is only 11 months old, yet this so-called "short journey" has already been a strenuous one. And it makes me look at my parents with a greater deal of respect.

I look back on the conversations we used to have, where I would question my parents about their love for me. They would always say: "We paid for your car, we pay for your insurance.. Of course we love you". And I remember thinking: "But that doesn't mean you love me.. It’s just money".

But I was so wrong about that. Because, now, I tell myself, where would Alisha be if I couldn't buy her nappies, or buy her food? My love for her wouldn't be enough, not realistically anyway.

And truth is, just because somebody doesn't love you the way that you want, doesn't mean that they don't love you. I now believe and understand that my parents do love me. And I believe it so much, that I cry now. I remember all those arguments I used to have with them, where I would scream and yell, accusing my mother of not loving me. Honestly, I believe that I was selfish and didn't know how hard it was to be a parent.

That's why, two weeks ago, when my parents came to visit, I made sure they knew. We went to KFC to pick up some food and in the car, I told them how much I appreciated everything they were doing for me. You know, I wouldn't even be living in this house without them. They saw this house up for sale, put in an offer for us, and then told us about it after. They helped us to close the offer, and they are now helping us with our monthly repayments. Don't get me wrong, we try our hardest with the mortgage, but it's extremely difficult making payments as it is now $4700 per month. So my parents offered to help, to much of my hesitation.

And it's things like that... that made me understand how much my parents love me. I now look back on other things they did, and realise now that those were acts of love too. For example, when I was still learning to drive, I lost motivation for it, because my driving instructors weren't the best of people. But to my surprise, my parents bought me a car, to motivate me to keep going. And when I was nowhere near becoming an adult, they talked about how they planned to save enough money to buy houses for all of us kids. It was so we wouldn't have to worry when we got older.

I remember nights when I was in bed, and I could hear my parents talking about us. Yet I knew what they were talking about. They were talking about our future and how they would help us lead less stressful lives. That's the sort of parents they are. Even when I'm stressed or upset, my mum knows before I tell her. My mother even had a dream that I was pregnant, way before I even told her.

And when my parents did find out that I was pregnant, they didn't go crazy like I thought they would. They supported me all the way. My mother even nagged me for a photo to show all of her friends. Lol. She also took us on our first shopping trip for Alisha. And the first time my mum saw Alisha, she cried. It was so beautiful and a dream come true, considering all the pain I'd caused my mother.

And today, when I spoke to my mum on the phone, I cried because I couldn't believe that I'd put my own mother through so much. Yes, it's true, she probably provoked me at the time, but did it really matter? Weighing that up against what she DID and DOES for me, makes me forget anything she ever said or did to me.

You know, I remember when I was shopping for my Year 11 School Ball (aka Formal aka Prom) and I saw this $15 handbag that I wanted. I usually didn't ask my mother for things unless I really wanted them. And my mother yelled at me and replied with: "You always look at everything and want everything!!" And I remember thinking: "If you didn't want to buy it for me, why didn't you just say no? Why did you have to insult me?" But now I know. And the answer makes me cry. I now know that it was pride that got to my mum. It was the fact that we were never that rich. And as a child, I think I didn't realise how much we weren't. And I think my mother would have rather yelled at me, than let me know how financially in trouble we really were.

And all this makes me cry because I was so selfish. I always took for granted how much my parents were there for me, and that I never bothered to understand their situation more. My brother always told me to, yet I never listened. But now I know. Though, I don't try to "make up for lost time". I try to learn from my past mistakes and treat my parents the way that they always deserved to be treated.

You know, we all make mistakes. We all take people for granted. But it's “the now” that counts. That's why the relationship between my parents and I is so much better now. It would be a lie to say that we agree on everything, because no two people in the world could or would. But I am much more understanding of them now, always taking into consideration all the advice and help that try to give to me.

I used to believe that no matter how stressed a parent is, they should never take it out on a child. I still believe that's true, to an extent though. Because after having Alisha, I realise that there are a countless number of stresses occurring on a day-to-day basis, ones that I never could have imagined. And instead of getting angry at my parents, I should have been more understanding. Because now I look back and realise that just because my mother yelled at me, doesn't mean she didn't love me. All those other acts of love, for example, thinking about my future, proved that she did.

And even now, when we check our bank balance and are aware of what my parents are doing for us, I know how much they love me. They could never say it again and I'd still know. Because like they say: "Actions speak louder than words"... and their actions sound so loud and clear now.

So, I guess, my moral is, as human beings we all make mistakes. We hurt the ones we love, we say things we don't mean, and we may not treat others in an ideal way. But that doesn't mean that we don't love them at all. Nor that they don’t love us. The world is not perfect and neither are we, but if we choose to love each other, it is important that we accept one another’s faults. If you love others for who they are, then they will love you just the same.

Also remember to treat each day as if it were your last, and cherish every moment bestowed upon you.

And do try to live life without regret…

As I was lucky enough that my mother and father hadn’t passed away, before I could tell them that I loved them.

That moment for you all may not be too late....