My mother, my friend?

By Julie Trevor-Roberts

FOR a long time, I thought I hated my mother. I really wanted to love her and to feel she loved me. But I didn't think that would ever be possible.

I kept waiting for my mother to change. I also thought that going off to college might help. At least we wouldn't have to deal with each other every day. Deep down, though, I knew these weren't the answers.

So I made up my mind to improve our relationship right then and there. It dawned on me that maybe my mother wasn't the only one who needed to change. Maybe I needed to be different.

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