I have never really understood my mom, but as I think about it, she’s constantly misunderstood.

Born in Kathmandu, Nepal on March 23, 1976, she was given the name Mina Gurung, some spell it Meena, I’ve always known it as Mina, but she’s always been one to “go with the flow.”

In 1986, she lost her father to tuberculosis, causing her mother to be absorbed with work at the small travel agency they owned, Tina Tours and Travel. My mom took it upon herself to raise her and her siblings, developing the motherly nature I am so accustomed to.

Confined to the walls of her boarding school, she was only allowed to go home during holidays. After graduating, she studied business and marketing attaining a bachelor’s and master’s degree from Symbiosis International University in Pune, India. 

Through an arranged marriage, my mom met my dad. After watching Mulan 2, I quickly developed a hatred for arranged marriages, but their marriage was different. They just made sense. They were the true definition of opposites attract and that was the way my mom was going to leave for a better life, not just for herself, but for me.

In 2001, they moved to Canada with nothing except a little money and a few suitcases. For a while, they lived in Toronto with some distant relatives to get on their feet. She worked in sales until they mustered up enough money and bought an apartment in Ottawa, Canada, where they had me and my brother. 

As we grew up, my mom made a difficult decision to leave work and take care of me and my brother. She wanted us to grow up never wondering where our mom was, to have her with us whenever we needed her. 

She immersed us deeply into Nepali culture by making us homemade momos (homemade Nepali dumplings) and cooking intensely flavored masu with gravy (pronounced masoo- a Nepali goat dish), which later became some of my favorite foods. She brought us to Nepali community gatherings where we made our closest family friends and listened to the soft, yet lovely sound of Nepali music that I’ve grown so fond of. 

Throughout my life, when I look at her, all that ever radiates is her care for other people. I distinctly remember my 10th birthday, the birthday right before we moved to Texas. It isn’t an exaggeration to say that she went all out. My 10-year-old dream came true when I saw a pink and purple bouncy castle sitting on the vivid green grass of our backyard. She stood out in the boiling sun creating cotton candy masterpieces and 20 cups of blue raspberry and piña colada slushies in our blender.

 Her life was filled with sacrifices for other people. She was misunderstood of her intelligence, her fearlessness and of her continuous perseverance through every hardship she has been faced with. 

I don’t think I could ever live up to the amount of courage and sheer determination she displays. Proud is an understatement when I say that even having a small amount of her influence around me, made me who I am.

Follow Rhea Chowdhary (@rhea_chowdhary) and @CHSCampusNews on Twitter