An Open Christmas Letter To Mothers From Their Daughters


Dear Moms,

We know you love us. Really, we do. The time you saved us by helping us sew Mardi Gras beads to the neckline of our prom dress so that it wouldn’t slip down over our non-existent boobs? Genius. The time you brought us soup and crackers and the latest Boxcar Children novel when we had the flu? So sweet. The time you bitched out Chelsea’s mom for not inviting us to her sleepover in the third grade? You were our superhero with a minivan full of Capri Suns.

But now, we’re a little older. And while we still appreciate your advice and know you mean well, here are a few topics to avoid while we’re home for the holidays:

“That haircut makes you look at least 40.” 

Unless this is our 55th birthday, please refrain from associating us with that age demographic. There’s nothing wrong with being 40, unless you’re 23. And are trying out the Karlie Kloss look for the first time.

“Why don’t you love me as much as Charlene’s daughter loves her? Charlene’s daughter is always posting photos of the two of them on The Facebook.”

The last time I checked, you were yelling at us to get off “the Facebook.” And besides, we would totally post cool selfies with you if we didn’t live on the opposite end of the country. Do you want us to quit our jobs in New York and move back in with you just so that we can Instagram the two of us at brunch? Didn’t think so.

“What did your father get you for Christmas?”

Please, unless you want us to revert back to when you guys got a divorce when we were 10, don’t make us choose who’s presents are cooler. You totally won that battle in 2001 by getting us a puppy. The Kobe Bryant jersey he bribed us with didn’t stand a chance, I promise.

“I just want to see you end up with someone successful, sweetie, that’s all.”

We get it. The line-up hasn’t been great: actors, chefs, baristas, musicians, and yoga instructors, mostly. But we’re pretty sure that you letting us watch Aladdin and Robin Hood on repeat when we were in Kindergarten didn’t really help your “find-a-rich-husband” case. Sorry, mom. We tend to like the cool, creative types. You know, the kind of dudes that steal only what they can’t afford. (And that’s everything.)

“You’ve gained weight since high school. What happened?”

We’ll tell you what happened: baking brownies during finals week, moving to a city that thrives on Seamless orders, and accidentally deleting that recipe you sent us last week for vegan chili. Whoops. Unless you want to pay the $80 required for us to renew our membership with that hot pilates instructor we can’t afford, please don’t mention it. Chances are we’re really insecure about no longer fitting into that prom dress you had to cinch up for us five years ago.

“If you know all the words to Harry Potter and Star Wars, why do you keep watching them over and over again?”


Love Always,

Your Daughters