My Mom Is Just A Girl Too

“Mom, do you have a favorite eyebrow?” I asked her as I ran a spoolie brush through my left brow yet again trying to get its arch to match my right’s.

“Yeah, my left one,” she replied. We have opposite favorite eyebrows despite sharing so many other facial features, like our brown eyes and dimples. Who would have thought?

At 27, I was on vacation with just my mother for the first time in my life. Two days in, we’d exhausted every other usual topic. We’d called my dad and sister, FaceTimed with my nephew, and psychoanalyzed that girl from high school who still pisses me off even though I haven’t talked to her in a decade. Asking her which eyebrow she likes better while we got ready in parallel vanities felt like a good subject to turn to.

When the Royalton CHIC resort in Antigua invited me and a guest to visit the property on a press trip, it felt right to bring my mom. She can be hard to shop for — how can I shamelessly give a candle to the woman who gave me life? But a vacation at an all-inclusive resort is an experience I knew she’d love and she really, really deserves. Plus, after a particularly challenging year of my own, some time away from my typical routine was quite a treat for me too.

The nostalgic and everlasting sentiment of “girlhood” has recently been popular online. Twenty-somethings still shamelessly feel like teenage girls; cultural phenomena like Barbie and Wicked explore the theme in depth. People share online all of the ways the phrase reminds them of how they connect with other women — girlhood is cooking a meal together in comfy clothes, or getting the perfect joint selfie, or doing your makeup using one shared mirror.

There’s even a TikTok trend where people remember that their mother is just a girl living life for the first time too. I’ve become acutely aware of that concept as I’ve approached the age my mom was when she had my older sister — and I’m realizing that, in the same way I’m evolving and having new experiences, she still is too. That’s girlhood. Our parents never really stop growing up. It sounds obvious, but it can feel so novel when you’ve always seen them as the pinnacle of maturity.

Vacationing with her made me bear witness to her girlhood in action. When I was in a position to treat her to a trip at an all-inclusive resort, she didn’t have to take on her familiar role of making reservations, planning activities, and waking up early enough to get prime pool chairs. She was able to fully relax, just like I had during every family vacation she’d ever planned. And honestly? It was priceless.

On departure day, she was in peak mom mode. She insisted we make it to the airport at least two hours in advance, even though we both have TSA PreCheck. I was secretly dreading it but obliged. When a particularly strict gate agent said I had to close my suitcase’s extension even though the zipper was broken, my mom paid to check my bag to avoid any further conflict. I may or may not have cried the rest of the way through the security line. (As I mentioned, I’ve had an emotionally sensitive year! Nothing to see here.)

Finally, after eight hours of travel, two planes, one van, and at least 10,000 Apple Watch steps later, we arrived, and I got to take the lead.

Upon arrival, the hotel staff greeted us with welcome cocktails that tasted like an upscale, tropical Shirley Temple. My mom whispered to me that she felt like a VIP; I loved that she got to enjoy my work perks. As we checked in, I signed the paperwork and spoke with the receptionist. I felt very grown-up doing this in front of the same woman who had to order for me at restaurants until I was about 11 because I’d get too nervous.

We were introduced to our butler (a perk you get with the Diamond Club experience at any Royalton location), who gave us a brief tour around the resort. Our room had a view of the crystal-clear ocean, fluffy white comforters that gave us the best sleep ever, the ideal getting-ready setup with two sinks and vanities, and sleek pillows that read “A little PARTY never killed anyone.” My mom got a kick out of that and sent a picture of them to our family group chat.

She’s willing to try new things even if she may not like them, and she still has things she can learn. Or maybe I have all of these qualities because she does.

Over our four-day stay, we napped in a beachside cabana, drank many mojitos, visited the gym (a cool oasis compared to the humid climate of Antigua), and tried a hydrotherapy session at the spa. I’d done a cold plunge before and my mom hadn’t, so she asked me a few questions — “How cold is it, really?” “How long should I stay in?” “Should I fully submerge?” — before making her brave dip into the icy pool in one swift movement. She loved it, and I was proud that I could help her out of her comfort zone. The same thing happened when she tried a sip of my pho during one dinner.

Like most moms and daughters, we can get on one another’s nerves. But I made a conscious effort not to roll my eyes when she fell asleep with her iPad blaring or asked how spicy a dish was before ordering it. We spent every moment together in a way we hadn’t since I was a little girl, and it was nice. She kept saying thank you throughout our stay and would call my dad every night to tell him what we’d done that day.

By the time we left, my mom had already made tentative plans to book an all-inclusive vacation with my dad and their friends next year. On the trip back, we wore nearly identical outfits (leggings, sneakers, a lightweight hoodie — I am my mother’s daughter).

I left Antigua with a better understanding of my mom. She’s just a girl! She has a favorite eyebrow, wants to wear cute outfits on vacation, and likes a stiff drink by the pool just like me. She’s willing to try new things even if she may not like them, and she still has things she can learn. Or maybe I have all of these qualities because she does.

We couldn’t predict the chaos that would ensue on our way back: sprinting through customs to make our flight, being rejected from our connecting flight as gate agents let every standby passenger on ahead of us, having to spend a night at the Miami airport hotel, and a monthslong beef with American Airlines that was never resolved and has come up in nearly every conversation we have had since — but there is no one else I’d rather have gone through it all with.

Plus, now when I don’t know what to talk to her about, instead of resorting to favorite facial features, I can instead think back to this vacation and reminisce on how we were girls together.