Compliments

I always say that my mom was not particularly maternal when she was raising me. Her career aspirations overshadowed her desire to notice the trivial and banal details of my little life. I was her surprise baby, conceived around Valentine's Day following her summer wedding. When she married my dad, he already had two young daughters. She was pleased with this arrangement and hadn't expected to have a biological child of her own—until she did.
Where she lacked natural maternal instinct, she more than made up for it in how she connected with me and my friends. I never doubted her love for me. As a child, I was unaware that she wasn't particularly maternal in the conventional sense because she was so generous in spirit.

My mom took this picture of me while were at Skyzone. The kids jumped on their own and I was working on something for the whole time we were there. Such is the life of an ambitious small business owner. I think this picture was her way of saying, "I see you and I'm proud of the person you've become."

She may not have understood or had patience for children crying or having tantrums, but she cared deeply about people. On page 83 of my friend Glory's recently-published memoir, she writes, "I thought of Ms. Doris, my friend Petrushka's mother. She was the kind of mom who not only seemed to know everything about her daughter—her biggest dreams, her secret crushes, her favorite color—but also knew those things about her daughter's friends. She taught us how to pray together. She gave me my first office job."

I was able to hang out with Glory and her son, along with my mom and our family over the holiday weekend. After the kids jumped their lives away at Skyzone, we returned to my mom's house where she pulled out a stack of Glory's memoirs for signing.

When I read the passage about my mom aloud, she laughed. She admitted that she didn't have a clue about what my favorite color was or who my secret crushes were. Glory’s experience of her was not mine. My mother cared about Glory's well-being and personal and professional development. She gave Glory the gift of her attention, and I'm certain she also affirmed her abilities by complimenting the positive attributes she observed.

My mom and Glory at my mom's kitchen table talking about Glory's new book "Gather Me" 

Throughout my childhood, my mother would compliment me for positive character traits that she saw in me. Whether it was my commitment to reading aloud to improve my skills, taking direction well after she corrected my pronunciation, or being trustworthy because I was an honest child, she always affirmed my positive attributes.

Recently, one of my best friends helped my mother with a challenging work project. After working together for several months, my friend remarked that my mom was incredibly affirming.

I laughed when she shared this experience because if there's anything to say about Ms. Doris, it's that she is a deeply affirming person. All these reflections about my mom made me think about the value of a compliment.

Picture of my family and Glory's at the end of our time at Skyzone. Glory is the founder of the Well-Read Black Girl literary community. Her memoir is her third published book. 

Giving someone a compliment can take you and that person very far. Being able to give someone a compliment signals self-confidence and an awareness of that person’s being. The result is often a closer connection with that person making them feel seen by you. 

When I reflect on my mother’s maternal nature, it was not conventional by any means, but she saw all the good in me and was never afraid to let me know. She was never the mom volunteering at school bake sales, but she was present enough to acknowledge all that made me good—and I suppose that's all anyone really needs from their mother.

Petrushka
Your Local Ice Cream Lady & Life/Business Coach