I grew up wanting to be someone “special.” So I spent most of my formative years fantasising about how I could be the most well-liked girl, the girl with the most friends, the girl who was there at the right place at the right time, always. I dreamt of how everyone would chant my name when I took to stage to accept the numerous awards I lost count of  in my imaginary, perfect world! And as you may have guessed, none of this came true! But as I grew up, (or did I?) and developed a brain, I realised that life is much more than winning a popularity contest, having fun, being surrounded by hordes of friends. I realised that sometimes, all that is needed to make one feel like a million bucks are the small things and the big lessons  or just a solid friendship. Well, in a nutshell, I realised the importance of being a normal girl.

But this realization did not dawn upon me in a day. It was nurtured in me for years by that one person who I have confided in, taken for granted, vented my anger on but who has always been there for me. A woman of many parts who taught me to be extraordinary even in the most ordinary situations. A person, none other than my mother.

Should my mother be my best friend? Well, if I define a best friend as someone who has always been there and will always be there, someone who tells me what I need to hear instead of just what I want to hear, someone who always wishes me good luck, someone who has cried with me, for me and because of me and still loves me, then, yes my mother is that person in my life! This very bond that I share with her has worked as a foundation for any future relationships that I have invested myself in.

Though a thousand and one instances demonstrate times when I have really fallen back on her for advice or support, the incident that really cemented the fact that I have no better friend than my mother was a rather unfortunate one in my life. I lost my first born. And she was there holding me, giving me the strength and hope to carry on. In that one moment, I realised that she had stopped being just a mother and had taken on the role of a friend. That day I learnt that being a good friend is not just about laughter through the good times; it is also about how willing someone is to put a friend’s needs first.

The thought that some day, in the future, I will lose this source of warmth and the pillar of strength brought me to tears. I could not hold back the wistful and powerful love I felt for my mother in that instant. I remembered all the times she had been there for me. My first play, my first award, my first salary, my first crush, my wedding. The happy incidents flashed in front of my eyes. More often than not, she has been totally honest with me and has not taken offence if I have taken her for granted or used her as a sounding board, as she always has my best interests at heart.

As most women will attest, nothing can ever take the place of a rock solid friend at any  juncture of life. Truth be told, there is no better antidote to pain and anxiety than a simple talk with a friend. My mother’s presence enriches me with a lifetime of shared experiences and helps me take the right, albeit, sometimes more demanding decisions in life. She has made me appreciate that good friends do not just go with the flow, sometimes they have to be honest and tell us what they really think.

She also taught me very important, “Life lessons in silence” by being rather than saying certain things. Though she did tell me once, “Your looks, thoughts, beliefs, assets and feelings will change so why be possessive about them? Let go, however hard it is!” She gently guided me to look for meaning, balance and happiness in my life. We do tend to hold on to our identities, beliefs, possessions, loved ones and relationships but she helped me look at life with compassion and humour, while emphasising that “This too shall pass.”

My mother is my personal touchstone. A sponge absorbing both the negative and the positive. Simple things, such as speaking to her every morning, make my day. A thoughtful mail, a timely phone call, a word of encouragement or a box of goodies home delivered are just some of the few ways she lets me know that she is always there for me. A change of school, change of residence, and change of relationship status  have all meant the end of many friendships but not this one.

I remember all the times that I have been set straight or even told off by my mother. A chiding is not always easy to hear. In fact, many times it has resulted in periods of me not speaking with her. But, she made me realise that when something really needs to be said, it really must be said and is worth an argument. This has helped me imbibe interesting, albeit, hard lessons in personal development that serve me at all times, at work, home or just about anywhere in the whirlwind called life.

But when I needed her the most, she empathised with me on a deeper level than any other human being that I know. Even today, when I reminiscence that day in hell, I remember how she gently coaxed me out of darkness. I really cherish the tears she cried when she knew, from personal experience or wisdom that I would sink into the depths of depression and walk a path of loneliness leading to complete emotional upheaval and trauma. But I also cherish the fact that she never gave up on me, my hopes or my dreams and my ability to bounce back.

Today, as I look forward positively to the rest of my life, she is there holding my hand and smiling, reciprocating the hug I impulsively give her! Today, I realise that I did grow up “special”. And I have someone special to thank for it.

Mansi S Mehta is a chartered accountant by profession. She also freelances as a copy editor and writer and has has also worked as a freelance soft skills trainer. Her other interests include social work and volunteering for various charitable causes. She also runs a social clothes collection drive with a few friends, whereby she has  initiated a small effort to help address the critical clothing needs of the underprivileged.