27 JUN, 2012
I’ve become my mother Last weekend, while I was elbows-deep in the kitchen during my regular Sunday cook-fest, something suddenly stopped me dead in my tracks.
Cassie White
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As I glanced around the kitchen, oven full, a hearty stew on the stove and food processor parts in the sink, it was a scene frighteningly similar to the one I knew would be in someone else’s house at that exact moment. My mother’s. I’d officially become her – and I’m not even 30 yet. But at the same time, I’ve noticed that I’m very quickly becoming my father, too. That’s right, I’ve got the two-for-one deal – except I didn’t order it. I’ll compulsively shop for trinkets and other lovelies until I’m euphoric (thanks mum), but bite your head off when I get my credit card statement (dad). I read cookbooks in bed at night (mum), and drive anyone trapped in a car with me insane by changing the music every 30 seconds because I get bored (dad). Most distressing, I embark on rants about “kids today” and their “sh*thouse music” – my father verbatim to me circa 15 years ago. It’s even worse when dad and I crap on about these things together. We’re like two cranky old men sitting on the front porch with shotguns, daring delinquent youths to step on our lawn.
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God help my own kids when I eventually have them. After hearing what friends have to say, at least I know I’m not alone. My sister remembers being little and seeing mum’s g-strings on the washing line, swearing she’d never, ever wear such ridiculous underwear. “But now that I do wear them, I remember how I used to think that and it makes me feel even more like mum. Which is not something you want to feel when it comes to underwear.” “Mum and I live in different states, but every time we visit each other, we walk out in the same outfit,” an old school friend told me. “It's always a harsh reality seeing photos of them at your age. It's like looking into a mirror – a very depressing mirror,” lamented another. And then there’s the quirky stuff: “Mum has a habit of taking her bra off and just leaving it hanging over a chair, off a door knob – sometimes even sitting in a fruit bowl. If you go to any of her daughters’ houses, we all do exactly the same thing!” And that’s just scratching the surface. I remember being a teenager and hearing mum freaking out when she caught herself acting like my nan. Smugly, I’d tell myself that would never happen to me. No way, no siree. How naïve. As I grew older, people regularly began mistaking me for her. “Don’t you look just like your mother!” they’d cry. Then over the years I somehow transformed into dad. Now, it seems, I’m back to mum. I’ve reached a pivotal point in my life, where there’s an internal battle being waged: which parent will win in the end – who will I become? Some days I’ll have a dad-like talent at fixing everything that’s broken in the house, but then need my flatmate to show me how to work the TV remote. With parents who are polar opposites, it could go either way, so there’s no way for me to fully prepare. So I’ve decided to save myself a lot of hassle and just embrace it – why fight something that’s inevitable? We focus on the annoying habits and characteristics we pick up, but more often than not, ignore the great ones. For example: if ever you’re down in the dumps, I’ll turn myself inside out to make you feel better (go Ma!), or make you laugh in really crappy situations (cheers Dad). But whatever you do, don’t make me talk about my feelings (yes, father, you again). And thanks to their influence, I have exquisite taste in jewellery and the second-most comprehensive music collection on the east coast. When they were my age, my folks were raising two kids in central Queensland, trying to run a small business and get ahead in life. Thanks to their work ethic and ambition, they could afford me a great education. Now I’m swanning around Sydney with a great magazine job, pondering another pair of Sass & Bide jeans. I don’t forget that, in part, I can thank them for where I am today. Who wouldn’t be proud to inherit traits like that? Think about it. Who are the people most of us go to for advice? I know who I call for anything financial or technical. Or to justify the purchase of incredibly overpriced jewellery/shoes/Tibetan wall rugs. So really, I’ve decided it ain’t that bad taking after my parents. In fact, the good things far outweigh the bad. Even if, as my sister loves to point out, I have dad’s huge forehead.
Cassie White is a journalist at Men’s Health magazine and freelance writer. Follow her on Twitter here.
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