April 11, 2016

A Letter to our Mothers. ~ Xoxo, Your Wild Children

Brooke Cagle/Unsplash

“No matter how many times we argue, how many times I don’t understand you, and how many times I get scolded by you, I still think that you are the best and will always be the greatest mom in the whole wide world.” ~ Unknown 


We have heard it all of our lives. We are the “difficult ones.” The wild children. The stubborn souls.

Oh, how we know we have tested your patience. From all the arguments we have so valiantly fought with you about trivial things that turned out to matter in the least, to the days of shunning you out of anger in the name of losing arguments and facing punishment.

We know we have tested your limits and have made parenting a headache at times. We have defied your authority and tried to be our own bosses from our very beginning. We have grown too accustomed to the raised eyebrows and head shakes that silently say, “What am I going to do with you?”

Of course we know you love us, but at times we have been sure you almost hated us from all the hell we have raised, all the lessons we refused to learn from our punishments—ignoring our groundings in any way we could.

We have been the wrecking balls of your life. You love us, but we are well aware we drive you crazy with our antics and unconventional ways. Though you’ve helped us grow, we will forever have that mark across our hearts we were born adorned with—the wild streak.

We are wild, but we love you—and we are so much better because of you.


Dear mother,

You are everything I am, yet everything I’m not.

You are everything I long to be, yet you are nothing like me. You are made of sugar, spice, and everything nice, while I am something more like vodka on ice. You have devoted your life to bettering mine, our dreams becoming completely intertwined. You are the one who has always been there, offering nothing but unconditional love and care. You were my shoulder from the days of crying over broken toys, to when my tears fell at the hands of awful teenage boys. I am sorry that I was born so stubborn and crazy—but no matter what mistakes I make, I hope you know that I will always be your baby. 

I will forever look up to you, hoping that I can make you proud with everything I do. You are a reflection of everything I wish I could be, but we both know that just isn’t me. You are a lady of class with just a dash of sass, while am simply a lady of sass.

I’m sorry for all of the mistakes I have made and all of the headaches I have caused. For coming in late, back-talking, and for the angsty teenage years when I played music too loud. Above all, I hope you know, I just want to make you proud. I’m sorry for all of the worry I have so carelessly caused. I do hope you know, without you, I would be lost. You’re my best friend and my mother. Despite the angry words that have rolled off my tongue, I would never choose another. 

Thank you for always being there. The older I get, I become more aware that beautiful and kind women like you are extraordinary and rare. I’m sorry that I haven’t always appreciated you—there really is so much that you do. Thank you for all of the nights you have stayed up to pray. I hope to be a woman more like you someday.

You are everything I am, yet everything I’m not. I’m sorry I was born so stubborn, but I hope you know that I love you with everything I’ve got.


We know we haven’t been the easiest children to raise, or even the easiest adults to put up with. But thank you for letting us make our own mistakes and for allowing us to grow in our own peculiar way. For standing back, with pained expressions at times, while you are forced to watch your incredibly stubborn sons and daughters try to do life.

You are the most beautiful women in the world to us, and so many times, I promise, we have wished that we could be more like you. We wish that we wanted the exact things out of life that you want for us, just so that we could see you proud. However, we are slowly learning that we have to be ourselves—and because of you, we are equipped to be the best versions of ourselves that we can possibly be.

We are sorry we are the cursed stubborn children. For all the arguments, worry, and frustration that we have caused. For the tattoos, piercings, and other regrettable mistakes we make that may hurt your heart.

But hey, at least things are never too boring with us.


Author: Emily Cutshaw

Editor: Emily Bartran

Photo: Brook Cagle/Unsplash

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