Like mother like daughter. Or not?

My mother is my mother.
She's not my best friend.
She doesn't want to be my bff, and to be fair, I don't want her to be my bff.
My mother raised me with morals, integrity, curiosity and a strong will. She raised me the best she could, so that I could find friends with similar values and create friendships that would enhance my life.
On the Today show, there was a debate on whether moms and daughters could be bffs.

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I too envied friends that talked to their mothers about boys, clothes, school and even their walk and struggles with faith, but as I've grown up, my appreciation for our distance has made us closer. But how does a mother discipline her daughter if the daughter doesn't respect her? There must be a line...

I got so mad because she never let me put Kelly-Clarkson-blonde chunky highlights in my hair or wear makeup until the eighth grade. I hated when she told me my blue lip gloss, Sketchers and glitter eye shadow wasn't my best look. She really urked me when she wouldn't let me visit my high school sweet heart who went to college a few states away when I was still in high school. She wouldn't let me go to some of the cool parties where people were drinking and needed me to clean their houses and drive people home, but when she conceded, let me go, and we inevitably got in trouble, she grounded me... Like who did she think she was? My mother or something?

To say we had a strained relationship is a flattering understatment, and only a very few people knew just how strained it was from middle school until my fateful freshman year in college. I could never understand why she didn't want to be my friend until now. I am starting a new phase and need her more than ever. Boundaries don't keep us out. They keep us close. They give structure to a relationship that needs the most delicate structure . I need a mother like I need my best friends. Need mom to explain why things happen in life and need friends to help me through it. Need mom to force me to pay bills and need friends to overdraft at Moe's with.

If you know me, you know my fear is having a girl of my own... not that I don't love baby Auburn cheerleader outfits and frenchbraiding, but can you imagine what another Grace would do to this world? I don't wish that upon anyone... but if I do, you better believe I'll surround her with love and attention, so she can confidently grow into a woman seeking after the Lord in relationships around her. And I'll prolly let her wear Steve Madden, black, clunky shoes with Limited Too jorts because she has to learn some things the hard way.