My Mum would never let me leave the house looking scruffy. Even now when I visit, at 25 years old, she often makes me brush my hair or iron my clothes before we leave the house. She doesn't do this to pick on me, or because she's ashamed of me being such a grot, she does it because she cares about me and knows that the way other people perceive me will have an effect on my life.
She always pushes me to work and study hard, tries to convince me to go back to uni or do night courses, but it's not because she thinks I'm a failure, it's because she loves me and wants the best for me.
She tends to frown upon the boys I date, the late nights I have out, my extravagances and foibles, but that's only because she wants me to be happy, safe and secure.
It's taken my 25 years to come to appreciate the way my mother expresses her love, and now I do, I love her all the more for it.
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