My youngest daughter is getting married in November. Part of the whole wedding experience, as many of you know, is finding the perfect dress. Several months ago, we had fun as my daughter tried on a variety of dresses, some fluffy, some blingy, some modern in style, some classic. We had fun, yet seeing her in the decided dress that reflected her personality was surreal. She stood confident and proud, and I could see her growing excitement for the day that will surely be a bridge to a new life shared with the one she has chosen. I couldn’t help but reflect in how far she has come to meet this moment.
The journey through early adulthood is not easy. I remember my 20s and in some ways spent those years relearning all I thought I knew about building a life. I can still recall the angst of that time. Witnessing my children route these years was filled with even more angst. Motherhood does that, you know. Watching from afar as they discovered their own authenticity left me hoping they would feel my loving encouragement in the quiet of their days. Navigating new employment opportunities with how to best empower themselves, staking their place in the big world and making new friends in new places were tough. There were many teary phone conversations from Minneapolis when I encouraged my daughter to cry for a few minutes more, but then dry her eyes, get up, make a cup of tea and then go for a walk. Tomorrow is always a new opportunity for better, I’d tell her. We would hang up, and then I’d breathe deeply in prayer. Only my daughter could make things better for herself. I hate it when we can’t fix things for our kids.
My daughter forged through her young adulthood with tenacity. The challenge to make new friends could only be embraced after contentment with self was cultivated. Replacing insecurities and self-doubts with conviction and determination required grit. We all know what it means to put confidence face forward even when our insides are screaming doubt and reservation. Perhaps my mother heart ached during these years because I recognized it all. I used to be her, but she was so much more than me.
Here she was. My lovely daughter who wore not only the dress that would mark her day of grand celebration but also she wore the hard-earned confidence and self-awareness that she will wear for life.
“Do you like it, Mom?” she asked as our eyes met in reflection. I felt overwhelming love for her. Words escaped me. All I could do was nod in admiration. Little did she know I was looking at all of her. Beyond the fancy, my daughter stood poised and ready for a new life. I rose up off the viewing couch in the bridal store to meet the moment of primping and girly fun.
“Yes, Hol,” I said looking into her joy-filled blue eyes. “You look wonderful.”
Anne Marie Romer is author of the book “Just Give Me the Road.” Follow her on Instagram @romerannemarie.
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