Learning What it Means to Be Motherly

Motherly – I’ve been called it a few too many times for my liking. It’s one of those words that made me cringe when someone told me it was an attribute of my personality. I was called motherly many times between high school and college and never knew if it was meant as a compliment or as a sly way to call someone dull.

As a 20-year-old, being called motherly by another 20-year-old didn’t feel right. Instead of bringing up positive connotations such as caring, kind, tender and protective, motherly made me think of matronly, boring, humorless, dowdy. It seemed to go against everything I was striving to be – independent, tough, analytical, free-spirited.

Whether I thought of myself as such, my roommate Abbey was, and still is, motherly to a T and proud of it.

Abbey and I lived next to a girl, Leah, during our first year in college who was full of brightness and energy. She always had a smile on her face, was quick to laugh and seemed to skip wherever she was going. We ate together, went to classes together, did our laundry together. One day she started seeing a guy that lived on the other side of the dorm. Leah started missing classes and we didn’t see her around much. Weeks went by without seeing her and then she came to our room, clearly agitated. Her hands continuously tugged at the ends of her shirtsleeves and, without breaking eye contact with the floor, she mumbled she was pregnant.

We sat with her and listened to her sob and voice her fears and anxiety. She repeated, “my mother will kill me, my mother will kill me.” We listened until she stopped crying and walked with her back to her room. For the next couple weeks Abbey kept talking to her, asking her what she was going to do, urging her to speak to a psychologist. Ultimately Leah decided to have an abortion. We were 18 years old, just three months into our first year of college.

Abbey, without being asked, told Leah she would take her to the doctor whenever it came time to have the procedure. Abbey and I talked often about it as we were going to sleep. I knew where Abbey stood on abortion – she was against it, didn’t think you should terminate a life. Abbey said, “It’s not the choice I would make, but I want to help her.”

Abbey didn’t go to class the day of the procedure; she stayed with Leah the entire day. For the next couple weeks Abbey kept a close eye on her and made sure she was eating. She was always there if Leah needed someone to talk to and helped Leah to get some of her coursework back on track.

Abbey was strong; she was motherly. She cared, protected, nourished this girl who we had only known for three months. Leah said Abbey took better care of her than her actual mother would have.

Having empathy, protecting another person’s feelings, caring for someone else – how are any of these actions negative? Memories such as this one makes me ashamed to think I ever thought of “motherly” in a negative light. The world would be a better place with more motherly people in it – people who care, are selfless and not quick to judgment.

So, this Mother’s Day I urge you to, of course, celebrate your mothers, sisters, aunts, grandmas, friends, but to also embrace being motherly.