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What I Want You To Know

To all the moms of someone else's child.

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What I Want You To Know

I want you to know something. I know you're not my mom. I know you did not carry me for nine months in your stomach and cry tears of pain and joy when you finally gave birth to me. I know you did not sacrifice your time for me when I was young and exploring all options offered to me. I know you have a family of your own to take care of. I know I may not always be first on your list, nor on your mind.

But know this. I care about you and worry about you. I hate you when you have shitty days because that upsets me. I love you beyond the moon and back. I consider you one of my best and closest friends, and my heart is so full of joy whenever you're around. You know all of my secrets and stories. When things have gotten rough, you have undoubtedly been my shoulder to lean on and have helped me dry many tears. And though you have that family of your own, you have never ignored a call or text from me.

Mother's day is about celebrating moms, and not just our own. A mother should be one of the most important people in any daughter's life, and I want you to know that you are one of the most important people in mine. Though I thank you weekly for being in my life, I thank God daily for putting you there. There are one million reasons to thank you and one million and one reasons why I consider you a mom to me.

I am able to laugh at myself no matter the circumstance.

Even when I'm shedding tears.

All because you taught me to bring out the best in any situation.

I'm slowly learning to let things go.

Because we both know it's "not my circus, not my monkeys."

You let me cry. You don't tell me to stop.

In fact, you encourage it. You hand over the tissues and let it happen.

Because everyone needs a good cry, right?

You never fail to listen to my stories.

No matter how inappropriate, you always let me finish them before exclaiming that they're TMI.

Because if I have to know it, you have to know it too.

Snorting is the sincerest form of flattery.

As long as we're laughing together.

Otherwise we're already searching for ways to achieve payback.

My quick remarks and witty comebacks? That's all you.

That's right, I'm a smartass and proud of it.

But much of my strength comes from you too.

You've been there for me in all of my forms:

Sober, drunk, happy, upset, pissed off, emotional, and unloved.

You've celebrated major successes with me.

You've also helped me through my biggest stumbles, figuratively.

But also literally, especially when tripping in my boots. Gurl...

And you are the first hand reaching out to help me get back up after a fall.

And sometimes you're there to push me over the cliff to get a good laugh out of it.

Because we can laugh at each other's expense.

You speak the truth to me, understanding that I may get upset and angry, but also knowing that I need to hear it.

We both know I can't lie to you.

Because not only do you see right through me, you also hate liars.

And because I'm afraid of you.

You've shared your stories with me.

Even at one in the morning when we both have to wake up in five hours for work.

You even let me be crabby that next morning, too.

You know my reactions and responses before they even occur.

And I, yours.

That's why you're the voice in my head on most of my decision-making occasions.

You let my anger simmer down when you say something that pisses me off, but you don't allow me too much time to stay angry.

And besides, I can't stay angry with you.

Because we both know within hours I have a story that I absolutely have to share with you, no matter how mad I am.

We also know that I, and you too, can hold grudges.

But apologies are sincere, as they always should be.

And if I ever really needed you in the middle of a fight, I know you would pick up the phone.

My brain may go in circles, but I'll stop it to listen to you.

Because your brain spins around and around too. And I know you need to vent just as much as I do.

And if we can't stop it, we'll simply spin together.

I know where you hide the good chocolate.

But that doesn't matter, because you share it with me anyway.

The little favors we do for each other mean the most, because they occur right when we need them.

The little sacrifices too, like not being able to get a Diet Coke on the way to work because I foolishly lost my car keys and needed a ride.

At my most unlovable moments, you make me feel loved.

I hope I do the same for you.

This Mother's Day I'm celebrating you too. You've been there every step of the way for me, and you know all of the details to go along with it. You've helped carry me through new experiences and have allowed me to question everything that accompanies them, no matter what I may ask. And girls have a lot of weird possibilities to ask about.

What I want you to know is that you are not my mom, but I love you bunches anyway. And because of you, I know that I am enough. Always.

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