Everything I Know About Love Started With My Mom

Culled from Tarah’s Substack

 (232news) –

Today is Mothering Sunday and it got me thinking about my mom.

I’ve always known something about my life for sure: if I ever do anything profound, write a book, make a documentary, give one of those long reflective interviews people do when they’ve “lived life” the story will somehow center around my mom.

Because one of the greatest pillars of my life, and one of the richest sources of stories, lessons, and experiences I’ll ever have, is my relationship with her.

If you want to talk about love, forgiveness, sacrifice, compromise, and even a little bit of chaos…the blueprint is right there.

So let’s start with love.

My mom taught me what love really is. If you ask her, she will confidently tell you that I am her best friend. She will also probably say we are in love.

If you ask me? I will also tell you she is the love of my life.

But let me be very honest here: she also annoys the living daylights out of me.

We have fought. We have said things to each other that probably shouldn’t be said. We have had those dramatic moments.

And yet, she is still the love of my life.

That is how I learned what love actually is. It’s not this calm, quiet, polished thing. Sometimes it’s loud. Sometimes it’s irritating. Sometimes it’s two people who know exactly how to press each other’s buttons.

My mom has an unusual amount of power over me. The smallest things she does can affect my mood. She can irritate me in ways that no one else can.

But that’s the thing about love: you only give that kind of power to someone when you truly love them.

And unfortunately for me, my mother has a lifetime supply of that power.

Then there’s compromise.

My mom has compromised a lot because of me. Decisions about where to live. The kind of work to take. The choices that shape a life.

Even the decision of who she would marry, yes, love was part of it, but I know I was part of that calculation too.

Because when you’re a mother, every major decision has a second question attached to it: How will this affect my child?

That is compromise.

Then there is sacrifice.

The sacrifices are the ones that are sometimes invisible. The places she didn’t go. The opportunities she didn’t chase. The risks she chose not to take.

Like not leaving Sierra Leone to hustle somewhere else, even though that might have opened different doors for her. Or choosing stability over adventure because it was better for me.

Those are the sacrifices that quietly shape someone’s life.

And I think that’s where I truly learned what responsibility means.

People often say, Children should take care of their parents. And yes, that’s beautiful.

But my mom taught me something else first: when you decide to have a child, the responsibility starts with you. The giving starts with you. The protection starts with you.

The child doesn’t owe you existence. You owe the child care, stability, and love.

She lived that principle every day.

My mom was a single mother, and she raised me with a level of dedication that, now that I’m older, I understand a lot more deeply.

Do we still fight? Absolutely.

Does she still annoy me? Without question.

But do I love her to bits?

Completely.

And if I ever write that book or make that documentary about my life, just know one thing: the main character will probably be my mom.

Because she’s responsible for most of the lessons I have about love

Love, especially the kind you share with a parent, is never black and white. It’s layered. It’s messy. It’s beautiful and frustrating and forgiving all at the same time.

And if you’re reading this, maybe this is just a small reminder to make space for our mothers. Not in a perfect, idealized way, but in a real way. The kind where we also try to understand the lives they lived before us, the things they carried, the choices they had to make.

Sometimes our mothers can be difficult. Sometimes the relationship can even be complicated or painful. But there is still something powerful about learning to see them as people, not just as “mom.”

I think that understanding deserves its own post.

So maybe I’ll write that next.

But for now, if you’re reading this on Mothering Sunday, maybe just love your mom a little extra today.