Being a mom made me a better person

Photo by Kristina Paukshtite on

Has being a mom made me a better person?

Well, I did develop more understanding of pregnant women and the women who became mothers.

Now I understand why my aunt used to say (with annoying enthusiasm) that her son is the cutest boy in the world.

And I understand her now, but I think she’s wrong though.

Because my kid is the cutest and smartest and most beautiful creature in this world.

No, the universe.

Interestingly, I don’t find my baby annoying, even when she’s crying and screaming for a short while. 

I used to be very quickly annoyed by babies and kids. Anything they do, any noise they make, used to make me want to escape to where they are not…

Oddly, to me, my baby doesn’t feel like “a baby”.

She’s “my baby”.

She is something special.

She can’t be put into none of the categories such as “baby”.

She’s too special for that.

When I was annoyed by parents like those, I used to say “well that’s what parents do”.

What I was doing was not because of understanding, but tolerance.

In another word, I was “being nice”.

Anyway, I can better understand those annoying parents that I have encountered in my life who were, to me, so blinded by their love for their kids that they can’t see how ordinary and even boring their kids are…

I can see myself being like that too.

Now I can still control it. But maybe this craziness will start to grow with time.

It appears to me that becoming a mother made me a more understanding person towards those who I didn’t understand.

Being a mother myself makes me appreciate my own mother more. 

I wish she was here to take that appreciation.

Being a mother makes me a more appreciative person.

But a more understanding and appreciative person isn’t necessarily a “better” person.

Yet I still feel like I have become a better person than I was because I am now more understanding, and more appreciative.

Being more understanding and appreciative makes me feel like my world has expanded — my mind has become more open.

I guess what I want to say beyond this point is this:

Shared experience is what links us together.

Shared experience is the hammer that breaks the wall.

I loved my mother. 

But now I am a mother myself, I love her even more.

Much, much more.


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