As the daughter of a Mexican immigrant mother, there are so many things I wish I could say to her—without it hurting her feelings.
Because of her love, sacrifices, and even her unhealed trauma, I’ve been given the privilege to live a life that’s more emotionally free and mentally expansive than she ever dreamed of. I’m not talking about material things. I mean the inner stuff. Mental health. Self-awareness. Therapy.
I’ve told her many times that I think therapy could be good for her. She always replies with something like, “Why? I pray. I talk to God. I don’t need therapy.” Then, almost in the same breath, she’ll launch into some unbelievably painful story from her childhood—about poverty, alcoholism, abandonment, things no child should endure.
I’ll crack a joke to soften the heaviness. We’ll laugh. We’ll move on.
But those moments linger. They sit in my body. They remind me why I value therapy so deeply. Why I care about breaking generational cycles. Why self-awareness feels like oxygen to me.
There’s so much I want to say to her.
I want to tell her that vulnerability is strength. That she no longer has to be the kind of “strong” that kept her pushing forward all those years. That she deserves softness now. That healing isn’t weakness. It’s a gift—one I wish she would give to herself.
I want to tell her that I already know she’s not perfect. That she doesn’t need to perform or protect or pretend anymore. I see her. I know her flaws. And I still love her—fully, deeply, unconditionally.
I wish she knew that being real—messy, emotional, honest—is more admirable to me than any illusion of perfection.
I hope that as she ages, she allows herself to feel the full range of her life: the pain, the pride, the joy, the grief. I hope she learns that healing isn’t about erasing the past, but honoring it with compassion and curiosity.
And more than anything, I hope she knows that I love her. That I see the way she poured herself into motherhood with everything she had. That every decision she made—from survival to sacrifice—was never in vain. It shaped me. It saved me.
And I’ll spend my life showing her what that love made possible.

Thania (TA Content Mgr)