Proof that you will definitely, certainly, turn into your mother.

I’ve just got back from a brief stay in London with my mother and my sister.

It was my sister’s 30th, so Mum and I jumped across the pond(s) for a week. Yes, one week. It was a short trip by all accounts, yet long enough to make a startling realisation:

I am turning into my mother.

More specifically, both my sister and I are turning into our mother.

Over the course of the eight days I was struggling with jetlag, exhaustion, lack of personal space and a London-winter-induced-chest-infection. Then the realisation dawned on me that the three of us share more than just big teeth and matching blood types.

Apart from wildly varying opinions swirling around in our grey matter, we were like three, walking, talking, clones of each other. I mean, we even all chew gum the same way.

“And how many blondes did that take to figure out?” I’m sure you’re thinking.

We’re related. I get it. It should be obvious how similar we all are, yeah?

But here’s the clincher: we’ve lived at opposite ends of the globe for the past decade, if not more.

And yet, my sister and I have managed to turn out not only carbon copies of each other, but also of our mother.

After more than ten years of living apart, my sister and I couldn’t live in more polar situations.

She’s in London, I’m in Sydney. She’s in corporate, I’m in creative. The last time we all lived together we couldn’t have been MORE different, and yet the time apart has only served to make us more similar.

…And by similar I mean more like our mother.

So the age old debate of Nature versus Nurture arises: is turning into your mother unavoidable?

It’s the type of question that gets a table full of women talking.

One girl I work with laughed as she recounted using her mother’s ‘teacher’s voice’ when at a 6-year-old birthday party over the weekend.

Another friend was horrified a few weeks ago to find out that she and her mum had got the same haircut…unbeknownst to each other, and from different states.

We all want to be different to our mothers, but do we inevitably end up the same?

Well, jury’s out on this one. Some studies, like one performed by the University of Minnestota insist that genes indeed influence personality, with a New York Times article on the study stating that the “genetic makeup of a child is a stronger influence on personality than child rearing.”

Psychologist Diane Barth agrees, but thinks that it’s less about genes, and more about the mind; with stressful situations revealing learned neuro-pathways.

“So what makes us suddenly “regress” to behaviors that look and sound like Mum? According to neuroscientists, our neurons seek familiar paths, especially when are in a stressful situation.”

…Yeah, I can kinda see that.

However, not everyone is certain, with expert Dr Michael Kraus reminding us that, as yet, there is no proof either way.

“…The question: “Do genes influence personality?” cannot receive a simple answer,” he says.

“On the one hand, genes clearly seem to contribute to personality, but on the other, much of the genetic evidence has not supported this view.”

Long story short? There is no definitive proof that we are all doomed destined to become our mothers, although a lot of smarty-pants scientists are pretty sure we will anyway.

So I guess we’re going to have to put it down to coincidence.

Ya know, all those things that have just happened to pop up in my Mum, my sister, and me.

Pretending not to want dessert but always ordering dessert. Major skills with puff pastry. A deep hatred of people blowing their noses near us. Our ability to get something green stuck in our teeth every single meal; our inability to hold in laughter in a crowded elevator.

Coincidence.

No matter how much you love and appreciate your Mum – God knows, mine’s a saint – there will always be a resistance to becoming The Mother.

We all hope to be spat out into adulthood as a fully autonomous being, new and improved, faster and smarter, our own person inside and out.

Well, the truth would suggest otherwise. And that’s not such a bad thing, is it? To be tethered to someone who loved us into creation is a pretty wonderful concept…even if that does mean inheriting large teeth and affinity for Carole King.

And if you don’t believe me, try spending eight days and a total of 46 hours in the air with your Mum.

You’ll see.