When Mother’s Day makes its annual appearance, I’m reminded of how lucky I am to be raised by the women I have been. To have absolute icons such as my grandmothers, powerful and independent women such as my aunts, and hilarious and successful women such as my kind-of-aunts is incredible. However, of course, each year I get the absolute blessing of being even closer to a practically indescribable woman: my mom. 

I’m lucky enough that she has been my everything, always, no matter what. 

Especially when I was little, I was always so thrilled that she was my twin. I adored that the little blonde highlights that the sun gave my hair mimicked her highlights so perfectly; I loved it, especially when others pointed it out. My favorite photos are those where our eye color looks copied and pasted—lighting up in the exact same way. 

I love that she is my blueprint for how to treat others. One weekend in particular, during my involvement in the school’s musical, I recall having to start a note on my phone of all the things I needed to thank her for doing for me that weekend alone, the note concluded with upwards of twenty items on it. 

I could write for pages about all the intricately themed parties she’s spent long nights planning for others, the countless times she’s left small gifts in my room reminding me she’s always thinking of me, or the numerous things she has put together for my friends deeming her as the “fun mom” that she is. 

I’m so lucky that she’s my biggest fan; she believes I’m something so special. My mother has watched, and tirelessly cheered for, each and every choir solo I’ve ever had—even if its duration was at most two measures. No matter the size of my role, her intense excitement for each performance I’ve ever given has never wavered. Every mediocre painting I’ve ever done is up there with Picasso’s work, and every month when I decide to reorganize my room, she convinces me with her comments that I could skip college and roll right out into the interior design field. I couldn’t be more grateful. 

She is my peace. One of my favorite memories I’ve ever made was a hike with her in the mountains of California. I’ve never felt more absolutely content than in that moment with her. With the most beautiful person I know, I was seeing the most beautiful sights I’d ever seen, feeling the most beautiful happiness I’d ever felt. Without her, the experience couldn’t have possibly been as absolutely restoring as it was. 

My mother is my inspiration; if my life were to turn out exactly like hers, I’d feel overwhelmed with success. She consistently motivates me to work towards a more loving, meaningful, and genuine version of myself. 

It can be seen in her friends who are just as iconic and kind-hearted as she is, in the way our family cherishes her, and in the perfect, bright smile she so outwardly offers to any passerby; her soul is the most genuine and intensely beautiful that this world has. And somehow, I get to have her as my everything, always, no matter what.