Dare to be YOU!
Introduction to Brandlady.com

My Daughters, My Friends

Tami Richards, Contributing Author


I
have learned so much from my daughters that I sometimes think that if it weren't for them, I'd be a complete nincompoop as an adult. As I raised these girls, I was aware that I was the adult, that I had to make adult decisions, and I did, but I don't know if they knew how scared I was most of the time. I never actually felt like an adult, and I was always afraid that they would figure that out. They are now happy, beautiful young women of 23 and 22.

My oldest daughter was always like a tornado. She walked like one, she talked like one and she ate like one. She grew to be a five foot tall, 110 lb. tropical thunderstorm to be sure. Raising her, though, meant many sleepless nights of fear and worry. This child taught me how to face fear and keep pushing forward.

My second daughter was the kid who smiled all the time. She confessed to me recently that she hadn't even known that "bad" things happened to people until she was ten years old. Amazing, coming from a person whose older sister had a past-time of tormenting her. She and I used to stay up late together, drinking herbal tea and talking with each other. She is the person who taught me how to open up and express myself.

The cyclone child, the one who caused me so many sleepless nights, made me a grandma when she was just sixteen years old. She thought she knew it all, as many teens do. It was turbulent, at best, raising that sixteen-year old teenage mother and my granddaughter. That cyclone child has learned a whole lot since then. She has since given me a second grand- daughter, and here we all are, standing tall with each other.

The smiling child, she who was hardly aware of "bad" things until she was ten years old, developed polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS) very young in life. At first, we didn't know what was causing her myriad of confusing symptoms. For a few years, she and I discussed the ups and downs of an estrogen-controlled body. She struggled with terrible weight gain, monstrous menstrual cramping, and frightening mood swings, along with other symptoms, for about three years before she was diagnosed with PCOS. Before being diagnosed, I was her ally as she expressed her concerns. I never would have imagined that all of those things were an imbalance. Mother's sometimes are blind, I admit. For an angelic child can't be sick, right? Fortunately, my daughter sought medical help and received it.

I think that this mutual "growing-up" has tethered us together. I feel that we are bound to one another as comrades in life. We rant together, laugh together, and cry together. We discuss all manner of subjects, ranging from careers to men; honestly and passionately. I am the first one called when there is any news of new cars, jobs, boyfriends, and they are the first ones that I call with news in my life. My relationship to my daughters has grown to one of friendship because of our past together and the mutual respect we have gained while traveling on the bumpy roads we have helped each other down. My daughters make my life complete.

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