When I was a kid, I used to believe that I could control the weather. I used to look outside my window and marvel at how the sun would gleam when I was full of joy and pour while my world was falling apart... Unfortunately, as the years went on, it seemed like the weather was always pouring. Life constantly seemed to be throwing curve balls in my direction- constantly shifting the floor from underneath me. The moment I felt like everything was finally making sense, life threw another gut punch. My depression was crippling, my dad died, my brother relapsed, my older sister was in a nasty relationship that ended with having to rebuild her back up, and my younger sister hemorrhaged. Life was constantly chaotic. In my inconsistent world, it only seemed there was one person who made it through without being mangled. Only one person who ever persevered and won my admiration: my mom. My mom was an inspiration. She was the strongest people I knew. As a younger person, I worshipped the land she walked on. My mom was never wrong- her opinion WAS truth. If she hated something, I hated it too. If she thought something was stupid, welp, it WAS stupid. Her worldview shaped MY world view... even if that meant sometimes the things that were "stupid" were about me... My father passed 6 years ago. 6 years ago, my mom had to parent all on her own, which is a testament; however, grief is cruel storm. Any annoying habits or gestures I did were now abominations. Any visible struggle I had was now bullet in her gun to use against me in arguments. Any vulnerable failure was now an offensive deliberate act of disobedience. I was irresponsible. Irritating. Boring. An Airhead. Pathetic. Desperate. Useless. A liar. A burden... I was a burden. The effort she had to put into my life was now a burden. When my mom was mad, my mom left no mercy. When she would scream, I would shut down. The room was a whirlwind of emotions. Her words stuck into my like daggers- pricked every nerve in my body. My eyes would begin to water, but no tears would stream down my cheeks. Every word was like the wrong note in a chord- a poorly placed dissonance. I swallowed every bitter word with as much grace as I could muster. I would accept it- my mom was always right. Her opinion was ALWAYS right, even if it was about her own daughter. About me. My mom- the most important person in my life who was so kind and generally so loving, was saying all this about me? As I grew up and met new people, I started to understand what was going on and how hard life was on my mom. Life was a cruel thing, even when you are christian. God allows things to happen sometimes you never thought could happen to YOU... in my case, I have had to ask Him a lot of those questions. "why did my dad have to go?" "why is this girl telling all my peers I am a whore- am I a whore?" "why is mom telling people vulnerable information about myself?" "why a I like this- what is wrong with me?" "why is she-" "why?" "why, God?... why did you allow this to happen to me?" Those questions feel... paralyzing. Like no matter what you do, you will never be enough. I will never be enough. But in those question- in those opinions of my character, I found God gave me wisdom. My mom could be an inspiration and be human at the same time. I could love my mom and know I am not all the things she has told me I am. My mom gave me my foundation in christianity- my identity. My mom gave me my hard-working nature and my desire to succeed. I have my mom's eyes and her beautiful smile. I have her perseverance and her endurance. All the things I love about my mom, are in me. My mom is lovely- I LOVE my mom, but she is a human and is not besides making mistakes. My mom is a real person with real thoughts. Her pain matters... but that does not mean that I have to believe what she thinks. I aspire to have her forwardness- I aspire to have her ability to tell stories that captivate an audience and leave you wanting more. I aspire to be like my mom. I love her. I care about her and I know she cares about me. I know I am not all the things she says to me when she is mad. I am not a irresponsible. I am not irritating. I am not boring. I am not an airhead. I am not pathetic. I am not desperate. I am not useless. I am not a liar... I am enough. My mom has taught me the most valuable lesson I have come across yet: We are all human. Even my mom is a human. She is living this life for the first time too, just like me. We are all growing at our own pace. I wish to teach the people around me that they are enough by just existing. That they are mixture of good and bad traits- a hodgepodge of traits that makes them, THEM. our negative experiences or traits do not define us, but make us strong. We get to control how we define ourselves and our walks. We get to decide how we react. My mom is the strongest person I know, despite all the rainy days she has had. She is the definition of what it means to be human, and I find that to be her most beautiful trait. I still believe I can control the weather. I believe I can control how I let the world and its thoughts affect me. I can either allow the turbulence of the world dictate my day, or I can let the Lord and I do it instead. I can control weather or not I am having a sunny day or a rainy day- I just have to use my mom's strength and remind myself... to quote my dad: "Tomorrow will be a better day."