In New York City there are plenty of occasions to be friends with people who seemingly are completely different from you. There is something that connects you, maybe you both like parties, maybe you met at a social gathering like meetup or couchsurfing, or maybe some other specific occasion brought you together, but other than that you don’t have that much in common. Maybe even your cultural background, life experience, age, or how you like to spend the rest of your time is completely different, but you connect on some level, and that’s enough to become friends.
So, there were three friends, Amira, Elisabeth and I, sitting at the Magic Hour Rooftop bar, a pink-themed brunch spot, ordering a sharable tower of pink pancakes, riding around the pink carousel.
Amira, with her Muslim background doesn’t drink alcohol, but she loves to party and is active on Instagram, so she ordered the prettiest mocktail from the menu. She lives with her parents and wishes to get married soon to a tall, influential man.
Elisabeth, with her Latino background, drinks almost daily, therefore she ordered a brunch pink mimosa; She is gay, she parties a lot, but also, she is a teacher, and through teaching wishes to influence future generations.
And I, a Polish, feeling cold, and usually not drinking during daylight, ordered black bitter coffee. Also, traveling the world for the last six years, currently hanging out around New York City, searching for freedom and a way not to get a regular job anymore in my life.
As you can see, we are all different. If you look at us, you might ask – “Girls, where did you meet, and what do you have in common?”
I met Elisabeth in a gay bar. And ever since we were meeting now and then mostly partying together. With Amira we met playing trivia during Christmas time, and continue into the new year with concerts, parties, and instagramable photo spots.
I guess what connected us was a willingness to go out, to enjoy the city and explore the places. Through exploring the city and its entertainment, we connected as humans and friends.
Between the first and second mimosa/coffee/mocktail, Amira admitted that she wishes she could stay longer after the brunch, but today she needs to drive her mom to a mall. She kind of sounded down when she said that.
“That’s fine, we can hang out longer on a different occasion, don’t worry. What is your mom going to buy at the mall?”
“I don’t know… Mostly she needs my company, she is struggling recently, and I am the one she is reaching out to… I feel responsible for her. I know it sounds bad, but she is going through a rough time recently…”
Me and Elisabeth looked at each other and Elisabeth said –
“Hey Amira, that is completely normal, my mom lives in Columbia, so obviously I do not drive her to a mall, but she calls me, and asks my advice, and when she feels low, she always reaches out. I also feel responsible for her and her feelings. I know, it shouldn’t be like that… We are adults now, we have our lives and our problems now, and our mothers should not demand emotional support from us, but this is what it is… I know that if I have a daughter, I am not going to do it to her.”
I was surprised because the only thing I had to add was a big, loud “me too”. Was this a standard dynamic in a mother-daughter relationship? Were all mothers of thirty-something daughters needing their emotional support, long voice calls and mall walks? I thought me and my mom had a special relationship, because I am an only daughter of a single mother, so we created a bond, that I assumed not many others have, but here we are, sitting on this rooftop carousel describing one and the same mother from three different cultures, living on three different continents.
“Guys, I am not sure if this is about all the moms, but my mom is just like you describe yours… She always wants to go shopping with me when we are together, and she asks me for a supportive conversation, and she worries about the time I will come back home if we are in the same city!”
Amira and Elisabeth laughed.
“This is incredible, that our moms are so similar. I thought only mine was behaving like that, I mean, I love my mom, but sometimes I am tired.” – said Amira.
“Yes, that is pretty amazing! I love my mom so much too, of course I do. But it makes me wonder, how did it happen that they need us emotionally this much?” – added Elisabeth
“Hey, maybe we will be just the same in thirty-something years, we don’t know that. If we become moms, we will be calling our thirty years old daughters, not our friends or partners, to drive us to malls, hang out with us and talk to us. Maybe this is the way it is?”
We all laughed and let that possibility sink in, while appreciating our moms even more. We are lucky to have them and drive them to malls, and talk hours on the phone. Mother-daughter connection is special. Sometimes you cannot understand it, but then you realize you are glad you have it. Love you mom.
Today I met myself realizing, that the relationship mother-daughter, regardless of the culture, and the place you live, has more or less the same dynamic. Sometimes your mom needs you. Sometimes you need your mom. And even when I am sixty years old, I’ll still be my mom’s small baby girl and we will go to the mall together.
