A global pandemic saved my relationship with my mother

When I flew the nest a decade ago, I had no intention of ever coming back. I would much sooner have believed I would find myself in a cult-esque commune in the remote mountains than moving back into my mother’s house at age 27.

But if 2020 has taught us one thing, it’s that a global pandemic can make the unthinkable all of a sudden very plausible.

And for all of the upheaval, heartbreak, uncertainty and stress it has caused, it has also saved my relationship with my mum.

Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I left my small hometown in coastal NSW at 17 and ventured out into the world on a gap year. I desperately sought freedom and independence. I wanted anonymity and a clean slate.

Like many rebellious youths, my teenage years were tumultuous and I found living in a town of less than 1000 people suffocating.

At the best of times, a mother-daughter relationship can be volatile but during puberty? That mix of hormones combined with the stress of single parenting, school bullies, older boys and the terrifying identity crisis that is adolescence was not exactly a strong foundation for a lasting relationship.

Let me be clear: I was loved, nurtured and supported by my parents, and I was privileged beyond measure in many ways. But things could be tense.

And then, as soon as I possibly could, I left. I worked three jobs, saved some money and drove away in my Daihatsu Applause to start a new life.

What followed was years of hospitality jobs, university, a professional career in Melbourne and several lengthy backpacking trips – until I landed myself a dream job in southern Spain at the start of this year.

The dream was short-lived as the severity of a global pandemic sunk in and my mum and sister began calling, asking me to return home. Initially I resisted, especially because I didn’t think I had a home to return to in Australia and found the idea of living with Mum preposterous.

But as military tanks and police started patrolling the streets of Spain in March, it became abundantly clear the COVID-19 pandemic was not going to be over in a few weeks.

I booked an expensive flight, quarantined in a Sydney hotel and decided to head to Mum’s. Moving back to Melbourne in winter in the middle of lockdown was far less appealing than hiding out by the beach for a month or two while I figured out my next move. Six months later, I’m still here.

Before I moved back, Mum and I had not spent more than two or three consecutive days together in 10 years.

And when family visits are rare, there is an unspoken pressure on everyone to make sure the occasion is a dandy, photo album-worthy time.

This looming expectation that every meal and conversation should be chipper can bring us undone. Relationships, like ours, could be strained.

But with nowhere else to be (literally), and no stressful Christmas lunches to prepare, there was no pressure on Mum and I this time.

We had the luxury of time and space (having my own studio under the house undoubtedly helped too). As the days turned into weeks, then months, we got to know each other again and our relationship healed and strengthened in ways I never could have imagined.

We’ve shared endless cups of tea in the courtyard, beach walks and op-shopping trips. I introduced her to vegetarian food and yoga, and she tried very hard to teach me the art of cryptic crosswords. We’ve spent countless hours talking, reflecting on the past and sharing aspirations for the future.

Sometimes it’s challenging. I’ve learnt it can be hard for a parent to let go and accept their youngest child is an adult. And I’ve had to remember that Mum isn’t actually obliged to let me stay here now I’m older and I should always be grateful she opened her home to me.

Fortunately, I have grown and matured since I left home all those years ago. After the death of my dad a few years ago, I pondered the importance of all my relationships.

And while this year has been a challenge to say the least, moving home and cementing a bond with my only living parent is the silver lining.

I’m now preparing to fly the nest again, but this time I have every intention of coming back.