Anidi … Huleti … Sositi … I can count the number of times I've seen Mami smile on two hands. When she wasn’t scowling at my math grades or frowning in frustration as I failed yet again to evenly spread the injera batter on the metad, her face held this cold, muteness of a statue. Ultimately, I can narrow it down to a few. Disapproval can be contradictory when Mami is involved. A chain shackled us both to this awful contention and as hard as it was to describe, we weren’t that complicated; we simply didn’t like each other. I've grown used to navigating the tension between me and my mother. Growing up, Mami clung tightly to our cultural traditions while I drifted further from them. Our relationship, strained by my desire for freedom and her commitment to culture, became one of disapproval, solidifying our paradoxical relationship. My academic achievement benefited from this struggle as I often used distractions, using academics as an escape. I joined clubs and numerous organizations, believing that distance would ease the conflict. But this avoidance came at a cost, shutting me off from the one woman who was a reminder of reality. However, everything changed when I documented my mother's process of baking injera for a class assignment. I dreaded doing so since I was used to her routine. Yet strangely, through a lens, I discovered her ire as she rolled the grill with tightened muscles. I asked myself how she felt, repeating that routine for years, just scraping by as she cooked her skin in the heat. I realized then that I was so caught up in my fantasy that I failed to realize why I'd rarely seen her smile. By understanding my mother's sacrifice, I've been able to appreciate the complications of my life. Embracing my indifference to my mother's ideals while appreciating her sacrifice led me to deeper self-awareness. I no longer view my academics as an escape but as a gateway to a better future. Through my academic pursuits, I keep these recurring thoughts in my head: that my mother's imperfections aren't faults that seek to destroy, but a part of her identity, and a part of her beauty I've come to admire. I found growth in Mami's flaws. Our disagreements continue over contrasting views, but our words don't hit like fists or leave scars in their post. Our differences aren't a curse. They never were.