At some point, we all experience the moment when our momâs voice echoes in our head, and we realize (painfully) that maybe she was right. Maybe itâs when youâre shivering outside because you refused to bring a jacket or when youâre completely drained after running on three hours of sleep.
At the time, I brushed off all these little life lessons, convinced I knew better. But after learning the hard way (multiple times), I must admit that I should’ve just listened sometimes.
âWear a jacket, itâs not embarrassing.â
I donât know why I was so against bringing a jacket. In high school, I acted like carrying one around was a sign of weakness â like freezing to death was better than being mildly inconvenienced. So, of course, I would leave the house in the dead of winter, convincing myself that my sweater was âenoughâ or that âI wonât be outside that long anyway.â Iâd rather freeze than carry it around, telling myself Iâd be fine. I was never fine.
The worst part? My mom knew. Whenever I left the house, sheâd ask, âAre you sure you donât want to bring a jacket?â And every time, I rolled my eyes. Cut to me shivering at the bus stop, deeply regretting my choices. Now, I bring a jacket everywhere. Even if I donât end up needing it, itâs better than spending the whole night wishing I had.
âYou need sleep.â
I think I still struggle with a âsleeping is optionalâ mentality at times. I love convincing myself that functioning on five cups of coffee and sheer willpower is simply part of the student experience.
What I always fail to think about is how sleep deprivation makes you feel: foggy brain, zero motivation, and irrational irritation over the most minor things.
My mom always begged me to get a whole night of sleep, and I get it now. She may have just been saying it in an effort to save herself from my sleep-deprived tantrums, but sleep truly isnât a luxury. Now, on the nights I actually get a full eight hours, I feel like a completely different person, and my body thanks me for it as I thank my mom.
âYou donât have to be friends with everyone.â
For the longest time, I thought I had to be friends with everyone. If someone was nice to me once, I felt obligated to keep the connection alive, even when the friendship felt one-sided or forced. My mom always said, âNot everyone is meant to stay in your life forever,â but I didnât want to believe that. Letting go of friendships felt like failing.
But as I got older, I realized that some people are just meant to be in your life for a season. Friendships shouldnât feel like an obligation and shouldnât leave you feeling drained. Itâs okay to let go of people who just no longer align with where youâre at in life. The right friendships will feel easy, balanced, and mutual. And honestly? Quality over quantity always wins.
âYou probably donât actually have your life figured out.â
When I was younger, I genuinely believed that I had my entire future mapped out. I thought I had to know exactly what career I wanted, where I wanted to live, and how my life would unfold. My mom would always have to tell me, âYouâll probably change your mind. Youâre literally 15, itâs okay.â
I remember being so taken aback in offence to that insight at the time. Looking back, itâs hilarious how convinced I was that I had it all figured out. Iâve changed my mind so many times, and Iâll probably continue changing it â and thatâs normal. The pressure to have a clear, step-by-step life plan at such a young age is unrealistic.
âF stands for ‘first attempt in learning.’â
Iâve always been my own worst critic. I vividly remember, at age 10, getting a subpar grade on a math test and then immediately making myself complete three hours of homework to remedy it. If I didnât do something perfectly the first time, Iâd get frustrated and assume I wasnât good enough.
On the other hand, my mom saw failure as part of the process. âF stands for âfirst attempt in learning,ââ sheâd say whenever I was upset about a bad grade or a mistake.
It took me a while to understand, but now I see the truth in it. No one masters something on their first try. That mindset shift in my 20s has helped me through post-secondary school more than expected.
âJust clean your room for 10 minutes a day, Please.â
I thought I had to do one big deep clean, but my mom kept saying, âJust do 10 minutes a day.â I remember dramatically rolling my eyes and letting the words fall right through to the other ear, ignoring her.
Shocking result: things got really messy, much faster than anticipated. Now, I see the logic: small efforts make a huge difference, and keeping up with things gradually saves time and stress.
If thereâs one thing Iâve learned, itâs that my mom was right about way more than I gave her credit for. At the time, all of her advice felt unnecessary, dramatic, or just annoying. But looking back, I can see she was just trying to save me from learning things the hard way.
The good news is that Iâm finally starting to listen. So, to my mom (and probably yours too): You were right… about most things.