Dear Mom, thank you for letting me go and travel the world
written by myrra kate
I remember the days you used to cradle me in your arms as you sang me to sleep. I remember the days I would act as if I’m already sleeping on the sofa so you would carry me to the bedroom. I remember the days I would cling to your legs whenever you had to leave me in our province for a week or two to work in Manila, the days when I’d cry so hard asking you not to leave but you’ll end up wiping my tears and telling me that you’ll come back soon.
Oh, the irony. Because six months ago, I had to leave. I had to be away for half a year to study abroad even though I had never before been away from you for that long. I saw you there on the other side of the glass pane of the airport waving goodbye to me. It was so hard to turn my back away but I had to – I had to move forward to face what’s next in my life.
But I know that it hasn’t been easy for you. It might even be harder for you. To let go of your only child and see me face the world of unknown – the world you were trying to protect me from ever since you had me in your womb.
Mom, thank you for letting me go and travel the world.
It hasn’t been easy indeed and probably never will. There are those endless worries and constant thoughts of “I wonder where my baby is right now” or “should I call her now? Oh no, not yet, she may still be sleeping in a different timezone than mine“.
I remember the rare days you would scold me, you will always have that tagline that says: “When you’re already a mother, you will understand.” But now, I can see that I don’t have to wait to be a mother to understand. Your relentless love and unwavering support are enough for me to do so.
So thank you, Mom. Even though it’s hard and painful for you, thank you for letting me go and travel the world.
It was always us against all odds. Ever since you and Dad separated, we have always been together – sometimes in reality, sometimes in prayers. When I was young, you usually have to be away because your work requires you to travel. In fact, you were just in your 20s when you traveled all of the Philippines. You were mostly the one who had to leave while I was the one left behind. Right now, however, the tables have possibly turned.
I’m so blessed to have you. A lot of my friends have very strict parents, ones who loved and cared so much for them – which is good – but led their children to feel strangled, somehow feeling safe but not free. I, on the other hand, have you. You embrace me so tight but are somehow willing to let me set out into the world. You know that I could only learn best from my own experiences, from my own mistakes.
That is one of the most beautiful things you have done for me and I couldn’t be more grateful.
I was so young that I couldn’t even remember when you taught me how to dream. But I remember that one time (I was probably five years old) when you made me recite my five big dreams in life. You gave me a paper and a pencil to write them down so I may engrave them in my mind. One of them was to travel the world.
Now, whenever I come to think of it, I’m sure I got it from you – the travel bug, the desire to see the world with my own eyes. You raised me to live the life I dreamed of. You were a dreamer, yourself, but you chose to leave some of your dreams behind so you can take me to my dreams first. Now that I’ve been to the places I have only once dreamed of, you told me that you couldn’t be more proud and happier that I have reached my dreams. You said that my dreams were your dreams as well.
Now, I promise to hold your hand as we go back. We’re going back to get those dreams you left behind. We’re going back to ignite them again. Because, as I see it, your dreams are my dreams as well.
I’m ending this letter with something I learned from my biology professor. She said that there’s this certain hormone called Oxytocin that’s released when a woman gives birth to a child. It’s the same hormone that causes mothers to be attached to their children. But there’s a twist – this hormone has an expiration date. It only lasts for a certain period which implies that mothers are supposed to lose attachment to their children again.
I realized that it has been two decades since you’ve had this hormone when you gave birth to me. I’m not sure if it has already faded from your body but I have something I’m so sure at — unlike this hormone, your love for me as my mother will never expire. And the same thing goes for my love for you. It’s perpetual and it doesn’t need attachment or any hormone to back it up. Our love for each other is always there, no matter how close or far we are with each other.
I’m writing this now on a plane going back to Italy from my recent trip to Budapest. You are on the other side of the world. But in a few days, I’m going home. I can’t wait to hug you and tell you all the stories I have in store for you. I can’t wait to cook you the pasta recipes I’ve learned and laugh with you at all the rom-com movies we will watch again together. I can’t wait to see your beautiful smile again.
Thank you, Mom, for letting me go and travel the world. I may keep on leaving every now and then but I’m sure I always have you waiting for me to come home. I will always, always look back and come back home… to you.
Your forever baby – Mkay
Outfit: Coords (top and bottom) from Style Genie PH // Denim jacket from H&M // Sandals from Primadonna (similar)
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Are your parents supporting you in your traveling desires? What are the things you want to tell them but can’t? Share them below in the comments section! I’d love to hear them!
I'm Myrra Kate!
I help female millennials share their message, stand out and make money online through blogging.
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