Whenever I find myself caught in a moment of irritation or frustration with the everyday ups and downs of life, I often take a pause and reflect on my current reality compared to my mother’s at my age. As a twenty-year-old woman juggling university, a part-time retail job, and the occasional social night out with friends, it’s so easy to feel overwhelmed or annoyed by the little things. But then, I remember what life looked like for my mother when she was twenty, and it truly puts everything into perspective.

Sometimes, I feel like I can’t fully express my emotions, especially the deeper, heavier ones like sadness or depression, because I know in my heart that my mother experienced so much more. While I’m stuck deciding between Spotify and Apple Music, she was getting married and preparing to welcome her first child. While I’m considering weekend plans and my next meal out, she was figuring out how to apply for citizenship and preparing to move her family across continents.

For a long time, my mistake was seeing my mum simply as my mum. But now that I’m older, I’ve started to realize there’s so much more to her than just that. Before she became a mother, she was a young woman with dreams, a whole life that existed before mine was even contemplated.

Just five years ago, my mum made the wonderful decision to go to university to study sociology. She wanted to change careers, transitioning from being a secondary school teacher to becoming a social worker. In her mid-forties, she bravely chose a path that finally aligned with her true desires. That kind of courage – shaking up a routine life to chase something new – is truly inspiring. To me, that makes her an educational heroine.

Growing up, my mum didn’t have much time for hobbies or fitness. She was so busy working multiple jobs to support us, learning a new language, and adjusting to a completely different culture. But then one day, she signed up for adult swimming classes. Every week, for two hours, she stepped out of the house to do something just for herself: to learn a skill that many might say she had ‘aged out’ of. But she did it anyway. That’s the kind of mental strength I deeply admire. For that, she’s a heroine in her own right.

She created a world where I could safely explore my girlhood: something she didn’t fully get to experience. Even when she didn’t completely understand the things I cared about, like streaming music or group chats, or fashion trends, she still listened and offered advice the best she could. I’ve noticed she doesn’t talk much about her childhood, and I understand now that it was likely hard in ways she may still find difficult to express. But despite that, she did everything in her power to ensure mine was filled with comfort, safety, and relatability.

Now, at twenty, writing this blog post, I see girlhood through a new lens. I see it not just through my perspective, but through hers. I’ve begun to realize that every heroine was once a girl, small, unsure, full of dreams, who maybe didn’t even know how to name herself yet. Before they could inspire others, they had to be inspired themselves. My heroine, ‘my mum’, has never stopped inspiring me. And I don’t think she ever will.

-Michelle M