Happy Mother’s Day to all the beautiful and amazing mothers out there. We wouldn’t be here without you… literally.
As an ode to Iranian mothers – I thought there is no better way to celebrate today than to tell you all a little about my mother. No horror stories… well depends on how you look at it.
My mom has always been dependent but that doesn’t mean she can’t stand up for herself. I remember YEARS ago (like 17… she was pregnant with my brother), we all went to France for my dad’s engineering conference. I was eight years old and we had been warned that “gypsies” pick pocket. We were crossing the street to go to some museum (memory is hazy on the exact place…) – when all of a sudden, a group of about eight women came at us.
My poor visor-wearing, knee high sock and sandal fashionisto dad froze and just put his hand on his back pocket to guard his wallet as one of the ladies attempted to yank the big ass video camera hanging from his shoulder. My mom tightens her grip on my hand, walks up to the lady, and slaps her across the face. Needless to say, they scattered pretty quickly after that.
My mom needs someone to take care of her, but when it comes to putting bitches in their place – she has no problem.
Throughout elementary school, my mother had a notorious reputation for starting fires if her daughter (me) didn’t get the very best that they had to offer. In fifth grade, they transferred me to three different classes because my mother didn’t approve of the teacher.
“Ahhh all de estupid kids are in dis kelas.”
Mom… my best friend friend is in this class!
“Na, she is not a good girl, you are not allowed to be friends vit her.”
End of story.
My mom ran the show – there were no questions asked and if someone even dared to, they were rewarded with a scarlet letter on their sleeve.
Iranian parents are different. I used to look at my mom and think, “Gosh why can’t she be like my friend’s moms? They can leave the house whenever they want, they can do whatever they want, etc.”
To this day, I’m still interrogated on where I’m going, who with, when I’ll be home (and I live across the country from my mother).
But now, I don’t think I’d change that for the world.
The only “downfall” Iranian parents have is loving us too much. They make every decision with their kids in mind. The attachment we have to our families rarely wavers because of that love.
There’s a reason we aren’t pushed out of our house at 18 like most kids are. There’s a reason we want our parents to approve of what we decide to do with our lives and who we date.
I’m very pro-do-what-you-want as long as you’re happy, but there is always going to be that underlying emotion of needing my parent’s acceptance. I brag to them about my accomplishments because I want to make sure they’re proud of me even though I didn’t listen to their advice on what to major in or what career path to follow or who to date.
And frankly, Iranian parents are always proud of their kids – it might take awhile for them to accept a certain lifestyle, but they USUALLY come around.
When my mom came to visit me on the East Coast, I brought her to work with me so she could see that I really AM doing well! She went up to my one of my male colleagues and said, “Make sure you take care of my baby!”
Initially, I was totally mortified. “Oh god, now they will never take me professionally.”
But that was her way of accepting my choices and letting me be who I am – plus my office still laughs about it… one year later. If her acceptance isn’t portrayed in that – then it definitely was when I finally told her I wasn’t a virgin and her follow up question was, “Vell, did you have an orgasm?”
There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t talk to my mom – though that’s probably because she texts me every hour, “Kojai?” — but with every single conversation, my mom always says something cracks me the eff up.
My Iranian mother – the professional gossip queen, my personal comedian, and the provider of best quotes for Twitter EVER.
In fact, if she could read this now, she’d say, “Tweetesh kon!” – without knowing WTF Twitter is.
As much as I knock on my mom for annoying me – I really can’t imagine it any other way.
So here’s to all the mothers out there who text, call, and question every single thing their kids do. You are not alone and all of our mothers should feel appreciated more than one day a year.
TWEET AT ME: @FARRAH_JOON