One vivid moment solidified for me that my mother and I are from entirely different worlds: I witnessed her capture a mouse with her bare hands—yes, no gloves whatsoever—while I stood atop the dining room table shrieking like a child. Seriously, she snatched that little creature as if it were a mere bug. Excuse me while I process this and consider putting my home on the market.
You know the saying, “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree”? Well, let’s just say when I fell, I rolled all the way down the hill and into another town, possibly even another state. People frequently mention how we resemble each other, which is true—we share the same vibrant red hair and freckled skin. But beyond those features, our lifestyles and preferences could not be more dissimilar.
I’ve affectionately dubbed her my Mountain Woman, given her past of living in a log cabin on a mountain. Her “she shed” is a blend of taxidermy and rustic décor, showcasing her many hunting trophies. Mine, on the other hand, leans more toward a blend of traditional and modern aesthetics—think neutral tones and sparse walls, with absolutely no antlers or fur in sight.
Open our closets, and it’s clear we lead vastly different lives. My chic tweed contrasts sharply with her camouflage attire. My collection of heels stands in stark opposition to her ever-reliable Crocs. Instead of sending me thoughtful Christmas gift suggestions, she hands me the latest hunting magazine, marking her favorite apparel choices. When I mentioned I was getting Keratin treatment, she assumed I had bought a metal container filled with carrots.
Despite our differences, we genuinely enjoy spending time together—even if her idea of fun is a trek through the woods while I prefer binge-watching the latest hit series. Our conversations often start with “I have no idea what you mean.” (Her: “I shot him broadside, now I’ve got to quarter him, but I’m keeping the rack.” Me: “I just gathered anecdotes for an article I’m planning to pitch.”)
Instead of resisting our differences, we embrace them, often finding humor in our contrasting lives. My mother has a natural talent for gardening, so she’s helped landscape my home and is the first call I make when I have a question like, “How often should I water my hanging plants?” In return, she consults me for anything related to writing or fashion that doesn’t involve camo.
It’s evident that my mother and I are not carbon copies of one another. And honestly, that’s a positive thing. I admire mother-daughter relationships with shared interests, and I once envied those bonds. But as I’ve matured, I’ve realized that longing for someone to change their nature only leads to disappointment. While we are like day and night, our mutual respect and desire for each other to thrive allow us to maintain a strong, loving connection.
There are plenty of moments when I truly wonder how I came from her—like when she mixed up a homemade plaster to cast a bear print she discovered in the yard. Meanwhile, I wouldn’t go near a bear print with a ten-foot pole. It’s clear she’s a nature lover and I’m more of an indoor enthusiast.
Where she takes one path, I take another. But what’s wrong with that? I’m here to assert: Absolutely nothing.
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Summary: The author discusses how she and her mother are fundamentally different in lifestyle and preferences, from hobbies to fashion choices. Despite their contrasting personalities, they maintain a loving relationship built on mutual respect, embracing their differences rather than fighting them.