Mommy Finger, Baby Finger

Reflections on starting motherhood at 20 and learning to grow up side by side

I didn’t just raise my daughter. I’ve grown up with her. I was 20 when I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t feel ready, but I knew I wanted to be better—for her, and for myself. What I didn’t know is that we’d grow up together. Sometimes I find myself saying, “Do you think I’m your sister or something?” And she’ll shrug and say, “Yeah, kind of.” That’s our vibe. It’s deep, it’s funny, and it’s real.

My ex once said we’re like Ginny and Georgia — minus the crazy killer stuff. Honestly, that feels about right. We’ve got the closeness, the brutal honesty, and the sass.

These days we’re reading Rich Dad Poor Dad side by side, learning about finances, credit, mortgages, and real estate investing. She teaches me video editing and tech. She’s amazing! I help design graphics for her YouTube channel. We talk through therapy sessions, past traumas, and healing. We share dreams, give each other pep talks, encourage one another to try again, start again, and dream again. She claps for me when I share a win or try something new. I clap for her when she pushes past fear and walks in her gifts.

Last year, when she went through bullying, I thought about mine. We rode in the car like two teenagers, trading stories about the wild things people have said and done. We turned up Lizzo, Chappell Roan, Olivia Rodrigo—songs that made us feel bold and confident. And when she was angry? I pulled out my old punk rock playlists—the same music that helped me survive. We’d blast it in the car with the windows down, screaming the lyrics, letting the rage move through us until we got to a park to run up and down an 80-foot observation tower. I wasn’t just her mom in that moment.

Through her childhood, I’ve healed my own. Through our bond, we’ve matured together. There was a time I reacted more than I responded. I didn’t always know how to self-regulate. But she held up a mirror. She helped me see that some of my reactions weren’t okay—and instead of shutting her down, I listened. I chose to grow. Because she deserves the best version of me, and truthfully, so do I.

And now, she tells me:
“When I’m at school, I think—what would my mom say or do right now?” When I heard that, it hit me, because it means my growth is growing in her, too.

Now we’re stepping into another chapter together: preparing to go to court with her dad. As I gather paperwork and revisit old conversations, I feel the sting of words I’d forgotten about. Some make me sad for the version of me that tolerated so much. And some make me realize just how much I’ve changed. I see the old me — the one who felt small and unsure — and I see the woman I am now, who knows her worth and stands in it.

It’s emotional, because my daughter is watching all of this. She sees me reread the past without letting it break the present. She sees me choose calm over chaos, and boundaries over bitterness. And yesterday, I saw her do the same in her own way. She wrote a letter to the principal, reporting a boy who had been mistreating her. When he was called to the office, he was so angry he yelled at the whole class, saying my daughter had reported him and he couldn’t get close to her. But she kept her cool — no yelling, no drama, just quiet strength and confidence in standing up for herself. When I told her I was so proud, she beamed. In that moment, I realized: she’s not just learning from my growth, she’s living it.

Our journey together has been amazing, messy, crazy, fun, cool, and full of adventure. The truth is, motherhood is as much about discovering who we are as it is about guiding who they become.

To all the moms showing up every day and standing tall, even when it’s hard.

With love,
Jeannette | @_mujerdepalabras