A Love Letter to My Mother🌷

As someone raised by an Asian mother, I grew up in a home where rules were clear — especially for daughters.
We were expected to do as we were told.

My mother was strict.
I have many sweet memories of her, but also bitter ones.
We often clashed, especially as I got older.

I grew up watching American movies and dramas, where kids questioned things, made choices, and followed their own paths.
That was the world I longed for — one where I could think first, then decide.
But to my mother, that meant I wasn’t being a “good daughter.”

Even when she didn’t agree, I studied abroad.
I chose my own way, made my own life.
When I got married and had children, she seemed happy — like she could now step in and finally tell me what to do.

But after my divorce, everything shifted again.
She was disappointed. Maybe hurt.
We spoke less and less.
It felt like we had nothing in common anymore.

I believed I had let her down.
She probably felt she had failed too.

But lately, I’ve come to understand something.
My mother did her best — within her time, within her world.
And maybe, just maybe, she felt a bit of jealousy too.
Because I lived the freedom she never had.

Now, I’ve let all of that go.
Not because I’ve found closure. Not because I’m forgiving her.
But because I understand.
We are different.
And that’s okay.

She may still carry her feelings.
But I’ve chosen to let mine go.
This is how I show her love — in my own way.

It’s Mother’s Day.
And this is my quiet love letter to her.

Yuko