Back to Square One

Am I aging that fast?

Yesterday I attended an event on the arm of a perfect date: my mother. She did everything a good date does- she introduced me to friends, got me a drink, and let me explore on my own. When walking back to her, I saw a woman approaching us. Her eyes brightened, flicking back and forth between my mom and I. I knew what came next…I’ve heard it my entire life.

“Wow, you two are identical! The moment I saw you, I knew you were Rosanna’s daughter.” And, as always, I responded laughing, “You should see my dad and brother.”

We’ve always been a family of twins. My brother’s symmetrical smile mimics my father’s. My curly hair is undeniably my mother’s-- and deny it I’ve tried.

Nothing against my parents, but I spent my entire childhood rejecting the things that made us alike. I straightened my hair, abandoned the clothing my mom chose for me, and swore I would never become a lawyer (like the two of them).

Still, there were always things that my ironed hair couldn’t hide. I inherited my mother’s attention to detail, independence, and willingness to give before receiving. My love of language, physical touch, Billy Joel, and conversations with strangers are all my father’s. I grew up sensitive like my mom, and a nail-biter almost as relentless as my dad (I’ve stopped, by the way).

It wasn’t until I began borrowing from my mother’s closet and painting my nails her signature red-orange that I realized I am everything I once desperately ran from. And it’s beautiful.

Perhaps it isn’t that we become our parents as we grow up, but instead that we mature enough to accept that we’ve always been our parents. So, while I hate black licorice (my dad’s favorite) and am much messier than my mom would like, my parents have always reminded me that I am all their best traits combined. And, before I was able to accept my most authentic self (some iteration of themselves, I suppose), they supported the exploration of who I wanted to be--tears, confusion, change, and all. Now that’s what I call evolution. Oh, and good parenting.