I have become (like)my mother.

When I was a kid, I'd look at my mom and think to myself "I'm never gonna be like you.  When I grow up things are gonna be different; I'm not gonna act, talk, cook or dress like you".

As the years passed, things changed.  I got married.  I had babies.  I gained weight.  My outlook changed.  I found myself saying things to my kids that my own mom had said to me when I was a kid.  I found myself cooking the same meals that my mom made.  I found myself getting involved in the same activities that my mother was interested in.  I had panicked thoughts about how I was slowly becoming my mother, but I reassured myself that I wasn't totally like her because I wasn't dressing like her.  I was still a cool, hip mom, not the uncool, staid old biddy that I thought my mother was when I was a teenager. 

That all came to an end today.  I have officially become my mother.  Here's why:

When I was a kid - and I mean a little, little kid; about 2 or 3 years old - I would watch my mother getting dressed in the mornings (apparently I couldn't be trusted to be on my own for too long so I had to be in the same room as her).  I'd watch her struggle to corral her boobs (she's a big girl; a 42DD/E) in these big old contraptions she called 'Playtex' bras and then don big panties that came up to her belly button.  Those memories stuck with me.  When I was a teenager I told myself that I'd never wear anything like that, that I'd stick to the pretty, sexy lace and satin underwires and skimpy bikini and thong underwear.  I'd never wear a big Playtex bra and giant granny panties, no sir, not me.

Yeah, right.  When I started clinical rotations I was (along with the rest of my class) given some pretty specific instructions about what I could and could not wear underneath my white scrubs.  No thongs, no bikinis, no patterns or colors, just plain white knickers that covered what they need to cover.  I found some Jockey brand underwear that met the criteria and were on sale to boot, so I bought them.  Yeah, they were a little larger than my usual panties and yeah, they almost caqme up to my belly button, but hey, I was told that I had to wear them.  When I started wearing them underneath my everyday clothes, I told myself it was just because I didn't have any other clean ones; that the ones that were sitting in my dresser drawer were too small.  But, it was still ok; I wasn't dressing like my mom because I wasn't wearing big ol' Playtex bras.

Until today.  I've gained some weight over the past year and a half and a lot of it has gone right to my chest (I'm 38DD/E). My current bras are all underwires and by 3pm I'm desperate to take them off.  I have grooves in my shoulders from the straps and marks on my chest from the underwires and I've gotten to the point where comfort is more important than looks.  So, when I saw that Playtex bras were on sale for 40% off the marked price, I decided to try one on. 

I was fabulously comfortable.  The straps were wide, there was no underwire - it was so great that I couldn't put it back on the shelf.  I bought it.  And I also bought two more, and am so happy with them that I'm going back this afternoon to buy 2 more for myself and a couple for my mom.  I'm keeping a couple of lacy underwires so that I can have a little something to tempt my husband with, but for everyday wear....I'm sticking with the Playtex.

I have become my mother.  I talk like her.  I cook like her.  We both have the same hobbies, the same outlook on life, the same sense of humor, and now.....now I dress like her.  I've changed. 

I've changed, and my outlook has changed.  I can see why my mother did some of the things she did; why she stayed in a marriage that wasn't too great sometimes; why she cooked the things she cooked and why she said the things she said.  I can see that she wasn't the staid old biddy that I thought she was, she was simply a woman who was trying to do the best she could for her kids.  She had promised to love my dad for better or for worse and she absolutely meant it, even if doing so meant that she had to take some punches every once in a while (yes, he hit her. It happened a few times, my brother and I witnessed it, and it fucked with me for a while.  I couldn't understand why she would stay and take that kind if treatment. Now I know better). She is a strong woman who to this day tries to protect her children, despite them all being over the age of 30 and what society considers 'grown'.  She's a fierce mother and was - still is - a fantastic wife. 

I'd like to say that I have become my mother, but I don't think that I can.  Yes, I talk, cook and even dress like her, but all I'm doing is emulating.  She's the real deal, and I am but a shadow.  I can't compare to her - nothing can compare to her.  All I can do is follow her lead and try to do for my children what she did for me and my brothers.

I am LIKE my mother, and I am proud of that.