Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Friends For Life This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

By
     I have had many interesting friends, including some who don't speak English, and others who speak it a bit too much. I've had friends I've yelled at, and friends who have yelled at me. I've had friends who were in love, and friends who don't want anything to do with love. I've had friends who just celebrated their 93rd birthday, and friends who just celebrated their third. My best friend of all, though, is my mother.

I love my dad, and I'm not trying to say that I love my mother more, it's just the mother-daughter connection. My mom has always been there for me, even though there have been obstacles to overcome.

First, there is the language barrier. My mother barely speaks English, and so we communicate in Vietnamese. Sometimes I combine English and Vietnamese because I don't know how to explain things to her. It's really difficult, because sometimes she tries speaking English, and I get confused since she can't really pronounce all the words. Somehow, though, we still understand each other.

Some teens may think their parents embarrass them just to annoy them, but I think my parents embarrass me because they love me, especially my mother. She'll go up to random people and ask them questions in terrible English. When we are in stores and she can't find something, she goes up to a clerk and asks unintelligible questions. This is when I take over and translate for her. Sometimes I just want to crawl into a dark corner and pretend she's someone else's mother.

A lot of people say I look like my mother. Her friends and family claim I remind them of her when she was young. They even say our presence and the way we walk are similar. I think it's cool we have the same aura. I'll be glad if I grow up to look like her because she is really beautiful. I look up to her (even though I am taller).

I can't imagine what I would do without my mom. I have a few friends whose mothers have passed away and can't begin to comprehend how they must feel. When I think about losing her, tears come to my eyes. Even if she does embarrass and overprotect me so much I feel I might suffocate, I would miss her cooking, her smiles, her hugs and kisses, the way she walks. I hope she'll see me walk down the aisle, and that she'll hold my child. Hopefully, I have made her proud to be my mother.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback