Throughout my life, I’ve been inspired by a lot of different people. Having recently been reminded of the importance and significance of these people, I decided to start a blog mini-series dedicated to those individuals.
In honour of Mother’s Day, it felt only right that this post be dedicated to my mum. She brought up me and my sister (and my dad, too), and still found the time to work part time in primary schools and study for a degree in English Literature with the Open University. I wasn’t the most mild-mannered of teenagers, my ’emo’ phase is still a favourite topic for my friends to bring up at gatherings, and it’s thanks to my mum’s patience, guidance, and lack of shame about constantly embarrassing me in public that made me into someone who grew out of my ‘moody bitch’ phase, and someone who can look back and take the piss out of myself. It’s also thanks to her suggesting I join the school drama club that I overcame my shyness, gained some confidence, and ultimately found the one thing that I’m most passionate about: performing.
When I went off to university, mum decided to pursue her dream of getting a Private Pilot’s Licence (PPL), which is pretty damn badass. It’s a lot of hard work, a lot of revising and a lot of battling with the elements, but she’s doing so well. I don’t think many people can say that their mum can fly a plane, and it gives her ultimate cool points in my book.
My mum has pretty much been my counsellor since I first developed Anxiety. Day or night, whenever I’m having an episode, a panic attack or just feeling down, she has this ability to talk complete nonsense to me and bring me out of it every time. I don’t have to explain or justify my feelings to her, she just gets it. I’m completely aware of how lucky I am to have someone like that in my life.
Our family has been through a lot recently, and through it all, my mum has stayed strong, been brave, and still managed to smile through everything. It’s her positivity that holds our family together, and makes us see the funny side in everything.
Mum raised me and my sister to be strong, independent women, and how to hold our own in this world. She taught us about body confidence, being happy and healthy, and not letting yourself be taken for granted. She gives me the space to be myself, and she accepts me for who I am (ridiculous piercings and dreadful taste in men included), and she is always telling me how proud she is of me. She also spell-checks every one of my blog posts, for which I am eternally grateful.
She introduced me to the old movies I love, brought me up listening to Elvis Presley and Michael Jackson, introduced me to the joy that is Neighbours (yes, we’ve been watching for 20+ years, don’t judge) and dragged me to art galleries and museums that I may not have appreciated at the time but am so thankful for now. She keeps me and my sister constantly entertained with our games of ‘pointlessly pointing’, ‘how many jelly mounds are in this room?’ and ‘let’s see how ugly a face we can make’. My mum got me into reading – a difficult task with someone as easily distracted as me – by lending me her copy of Goodnight Mister Tom, which I quickly destroyed because I read it over and over again. She also gave me one of the best presents I’ve ever received: my National Trust membership. You may think I’m joking, but I’m really not.
On top of all of that, she’s apparently frozen in time, and has the best skin ever. Seriously mum, you look incredible, all my friends think you’re hot and it’s really annoying.
Mum, you’re the best, and I’m not just saying that. My counsellor, my spider-catcher and my best friend.