Our contributor, Kaleigh Glaza, discusses how she grew up always being compared to her mom, and how she has finally accepted that she’s basically turning into her mom—and is just fine with that!

In my family, we have always said things like “You’re my favorite mom” or “You’re my favorite youngest daughter.” First, this was done when we were younger because my sister and I would constantly ask who the favorite child was. Now, aside from the fact that I, the oldest, am clearly forever the actual favorite child, I always got a kick out of these statements in childhood. It made me feel so loved even as my parents refused to declare a favorite.

However, as we grew older and developed more of our own personalities, it became clear that my younger sister shared a lot of characteristics with my dad. Some of these were good (funny, original, loyal as all hell to their loved ones) and some not quite so positive (stubborn, a bit of a temper). I, on the other hand, was always described as being “just like mom.” Always smiling with pink cheeks. A planner of the highest order who lived by lists and hated losing control more than anything else. A lover of cheesy pop songs and any carbohydrate. A caregiver, sometimes to a smothering degree. I was my mother’s daughter through and through.

And that always bothered me. I wasn’t my mom! I was my own person. Plus, my mom was lame! She set curfews and made crafts and volunteered to start a recycling club at our school. She cheered way too loud at our sports games and wanted to be friends with all our friends. She wanted to be our friend even. Can you imagine?!

So when I left for college, I was determined to carve out my own path and not exhibit any of the “lame” characteristics I had inherited from my mom. I would be easygoing and calm and cool and, above all, FUN. I wouldn’t stress when my roommate stayed out late the night before we had an exam or when I wasn’t immediately appointed captain of every team or group on campus. I made it about one month like that. Then I started joining more clubs, setting boundaries and study schedules. Even if I was hundreds of miles away from her, I was my mother’s daughter. Luckily, at least none of my new friends knew that. They still saw me as me, even if “me” was someone who broke her days out into hour segments during finals to ensure maximum productivity.

When I graduated, I first got a job in marketing (just like my mom) before eventually moving into the worlds of nonprofits and hospitality (just like my mom). And I started to appreciate the parts of me that were like my mom. I took pride in being someone my co-workers came to for advice, for being the person my friends asked to brainstorm a new idea or proofread a resume. I could still plan a great party, but I began to embrace the “mom” in myself.

This was never truer than when my dad got sick, and later died shortly after my 25th birthday. I went into full planning mode, helping my mom and sister in any way I could, whether that meant coordinating the food for the wake or making the photo slideshow for his service. Even on that day, so many people commented that I was so like my mom.

Since then, my mom and I have grown closer than ever. I even moved in with her for a time. My younger sister was working internationally so we were all the family that each other had most of the time. And the more time we spent together, more as friends and equals than in the traditional mother-daughter relationship we’d had before, the more I saw myself in her. And this time, it didn’t bother me. My mom was strong and resilient and warm and dependable and saw the good in every situation. I could learn a lot from that.

I think we are all conditioned to think that being “like your mother” is a bad thing. We hear men hurl it as an insult in TV and movies. We are told that being the “mom” of your group means you’re not the fun one, just the one that makes sure everyone gets home at the end of the night. “Don’t mom me!” is the ultimate harsh word from a friend or younger sibling. But why? Being a mom is badass! They create life, cultivate the human beings we become and are a huge part of how we live and approach each day. This also holds for fathers, but there is somehow never the same negative connotation toward growing up to be “like your father” in the same way that it is often implied with the phrase “just like your mother.”

But as I’ve gotten older, and gotten the opportunity to see my mom as a peer and a person, not just a caregiver, I’ve never been prouder to be “just like mom.” Sure, she drives me crazy sometimes, but she also constantly helps and inspires me. She drives me to be better, and she brings out the best in me. Because it’s also the best that’s in her.

I’m just like my mom. I’m a badass. I’m strong and smart and smiley, all in one. I’m a planner and a grinder and when I’ve had a bad day, nothing calms me like cooking a great meal. I’m me. But I’m also her. And I’ve never been prouder to say so.

A lifelong Chicagoan, Kaleigh currently works in the Windy City’s food social media and marketing world, which is perfect for her cheese and chocolate-obsessed self. She is your go-to girl for recommendations on travel, champagne, the best Beyoncé songs to sing in the shower and the latest in thriller fiction reads. In addition to Glitter Guide, her work has also appeared in Refinery29, The EveryGirl, Lux and Concord, DiningOut Chicago Magazine, and others. Follow her on Instagram at @kaleighglaza and work with her on food, blogging, and social media at https://www.kaleighglaza.com/.