My Mom’s My Best Friend And I’m Damn Proud Of It

 

My mom is my best friend, and I’ve never been more proud to say that.

Growing up, my mother and I had a relationship like a mother-daughter should. I went through my teenage years and I was wild and rambunctious. We butted heads and didn’t see eye-to-eye—I wanted to live my life and she wanted me to live by her rules. But after college, in the real world, I realized more than ever that my mother was the number one person who had always had my back.

 

My mom is brutally honest with me but in the best way possible. She won’t lie to me just to make me feel better about myself—she’ll tell me when I’m wrong. She’ll show me why I’ve acted like a complete d*ck. She’ll tell me how I should correct my wrongs. She won’t give me poor advice to sabotage me, she has my best interest at heart.

 

My mom is the shoulder to cry on, the arms to laugh in, the hand to help me up when I fall. I know that no matter how bad life gets, she’s just a phone call away with advice, wisdom, a joke, or even a sassy remark.

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