Lessons from My Mother

Over the years, as most mothers do, my mother tied to pass on the lessons that she had learned throughout her military career. At first, I thought the words unwise. Yep, that was the 20-year-old (probably should have been knocked on my ass a few times or two) snarky self.

She knew so much more than what I gave her credit for.

So I learned these lessons the hard way, and the hardest one of all was – she was right.

Lesson One: People do not change at their core.

I like to believe in the good in everyone. If someone wants to change, they will, and they will do their best. I was fooled time and again by empty promises from my boyfriends to coworkers. They would say one thing and do another and EACH TIME I was surprised. I shouldn’t have been. I should have critical and sharp, but I felt that this was a disservice to myself and the person they were trying to become.

My mother would always tell me; people do not change at their core. They are who they are. Selfish people will always be somewhat selfish. Busy people will always seek a way to be active. Competitive people cannot help striving to be first. Those who hurt you will always find a way to hurt you, intentionally or not.

“Don’t be fooled into believing people are different than whom they show you they are.”

She was so right.

I take this to heart now. I believe people when they show me who they are. No judgment, I promise, but I don’t have expectations for their potential that I expect to see them become. It’s not my place to change them.

Lesson Two: You are replaceable.

She didn’t mean this as a daughter (though I’m pretty sure that she would have liked to in my middle school years – I wasn’t the nicest daughter on the block).

She meant this throughout my career in the military and on the civilian side.

“You can work your entire career and give it everything you have. You can give up time with your family, lose your friends, forfeit your health, and only get so far and guess what? The moment you leave, they will replace you.”

It is a cold, harsh reality, but businesses MUST move on and they will without you.

I’m careful about what I give a sacrifice now. I try to make sure that out of my 24 hours in a day, there is equal time spent with work and family and of course, myself. It’s never even, but it’s better than what it was.

Lesson 3: Suck it up

When I was in basic training, I had NO CLUE what I was doing. I joined mainly to my mother’s influence of “you need to do something with your life” speech and went into the guard. On week 3, I called and said, “I want to quit.”

“You are going to stay there and suck it up.”

Oh, the joys of having a military mother.

There was no sympathy, no remorse, no “it’s ok honey, come home.”

What I needed were grit and tough love. I needed to know was; I could do this and coming home wasn’t an option. I signed a contract and I was going to finishing it.

Now, to those who have been through basic training, you may laugh. No, I mean it. Please chuckle, because as I look back now, it IS laughable. How could I wine so much about basic training? I was, in a way, weak and young. I just hadn’t been in an environment where I was yelled at and told what to do. I never really had to suck it up.

Thank God she told me that. It was the words that straighten my spine. It rang through my head when I wanted to quit, and it still does to this day.

Suck it up, buttercup. Do the hard work. Get the job done. Move on.

Lesson 4: You’ll never be homeless

If I could have stayed home with my parents forever, I would have.

Don’t get me wrong, and I am much braver now that what I was, but my home was comfortable, and I loved being with my parents. Even in high school, I would get anxious if I had to spend the night somewhere else, even at a sleepover with friends. My parents were my safety zone and I didn’t want to leave it.

After going through my divorce, I didn’t know where to go. I was lost and I was ashamed to come home. My mother pulled me aside one day after visiting me in my bedroom I was renting from a coworker, and she let the comfort sink in.

“You will never be homeless.”

She let me know that I could come home. I could stay for a while, but I couldn’t stay forever. I had to pick up the pieces and move forward.

There was comfort in knowing that I always had a home to fall back to. I could try things, risk myself with work and life. I could make changes and fail and …it was ok. There would be a roof over my head, even for a little while.

This mother’s day, as I look back, I see that she is strong and good and…human. My mother being human helps me understand where these lessons come from. She had to put in the hard work. She had to press forward. She had to take risks.

Thank you for everything, Mom.