The Mother I Was… The Mother I Am

If I were to describe myself as a mother in one word, it would probably be controlling. 

Even with the strong personalities of my children, I often managed to have the final say. I wanted things done my way— not because I wanted to control their lives, but because I genuinely believed I knew what was best for them.

I realize that was rooted in one thing: worry. I worried they might get hurt. I worried something bad might happen. I worried they weren’t ready for the world.

Was I overprotective? Maybe.

Actually… probably.

“Ma Kelan Mo Ako Bibitawan?”

Take my eldest son, Noknok, for example.

When he was applying for his first job in Manila, my husband and I accompanied him to his interview.

Go ahead… You may laugh now. 😄 It was my idea.

I simply couldn’t imagine him traveling alone to a place more than 70 kilometers away from home. Never mind that he was already old enough to apply for a job. It’s true—he was already driving for years. Yet, I wouldn’t allow him to drive beyond the neighboring town by himself.

One day, while trying to convince me to let him drive to Manila alone, he finally asked, “Ma, kelan mo ako bibitawan?” (“Ma, when will you let go of me?”)

Without missing a beat, I answered, “Pag 40 ka na!” (“When you’re 40 years old!”)

It was meant to be a joke. Well, sort of.😄

Today, Noknok is married and has a family of his own. He and his wife are raising three adorable daughters and a son.

The Art Of Interfering


My eldest daughter, Ningning, is married as well.

For almost two years, she and her husband lived with me. During that time, I made a conscious effort not to interfere in their married life.

Believe me, it took every ounce of self-control I had. I wanted to let them make their own decisions, solve their own problems, and build their own family in their own way. 

One late evening, out of habit, I sent Ningning a text message. “San ka na?” (“Where are you?”)

Her reply made me laugh—and reminded me that life has changed. “Ma! May asawa na po ako. I’m with JC.” (Ma! I'm married already. I’m with Jc.”)

Today, she and her husband have moved out. They are literally on their own now, raising a cute son.

By the time Tenten and Yeye came along, I had softened. They were allowed to do many things that Noknok and Ningning could only wish they had been permitted to do.

Ningning would often tease them, “Maswerte kayo! Hindi ganyan si Mommy sa aming dalawa ni Kuya. Sobrang lenient na nya sa inyo!” (“You are lucky! Mommy wasn't like that with Kuya and me. She's so much more lenient with you!”)

I sometimes wonder whether my being too controlling caused pain that my older children simply chose not to hold against me. I’d like to believe ours has always been a family that talks. We’ve had difficult conversations. We’ve said “sorry”. We’ve laughed about old stories. Somehow, we’ve learned to understand one another.

Learning To Mellow

At present, Yeye, the youngest, is married, too.

Have I completely outgrown my controlling ways? Honestly? Not yet. But I have changed.

If we have time, I still sit down with them and talk one-on-one, as the need arises. With my married children, I’ve learned to try and listen first. 

Do I still feel the urge to take over? I think, the answer is yes. But I mellowed.

I listen. I am always tempted to take control, but I try to restrict myself. I give advice, but I let them decide. I cannot impose—or should I say, I must not? That is what letting go truly means. We may have different takes on certain matters, but that’s about it. I will support them the best way I can, in all aspects.

As a family, we still debate a lot. I hear them out and they hear me out.They still push their thoughts and opinions and I still force my judgments. As I said, we all have strong personalities. We argue... a lot! But, there will always be meeting of minds and hearts with acceptance, understanding and respect.

At the end of the day, we remain a family that chooses one another.

People often say that time changes everything. I don’t think time does. Love does…

And somewhere between holding on and learning to let go, I became a different mother. Not a perfect one. Just a better one than the mother I used to be.