I’m currently making my way through the fifth season of Gilmore Girls (so nobody spoil anything for me, please) and am falling in love with this show. Okay, I was already in love with it by the end of season one, but that’s not the point. Sort through the various relationships that occur throughout the show, and you’ll end up with a mighty handful. But the one relationship that seems to be reoccurring and never ending is Lorelai and Rory’s: mother and daughter. Which, of course, got me thinking of my own relationship with my mother.

I would not say that my mom and I mirror Lorelai and Rory completely. For starters, my mom was twenty-nine, not sixteen, when she gave birth to me (and had already popped out two wonderful baby girls after she was already married to my dad). So in the obvious concrete ways, we’re different from the Gilmore girls (besides the fact that we live in a small town). But there are similarities I’ve noticed as I’ve been binging my way through the seasons. The top similarity: my mom is my best friend.

There’s a pretty comical throw pillow somewhere in the world that says, “We’ll always be best friends,” in big letters, then in smaller print, “Because you know too much.” That’s kind of how it is with my mom. I tell her everything, even things she probably doesn’t want nor need to know. But that’s what she’s there for. We talk about everything together, and it’s great. Not only do I feel like I can trust her with what I tell her, but I also know that she’ll give me her honest opinion, even if there’s a possibility of offending me because she knows it’s what I need to hear, not what I want to hear.

It’s not a chore to spend time with my mom, nor am I embarrassed by her. For instance, you know how you somehow accidentally match clothes with your mom and you run back to your room in horror and change really fast because you can’t possibly look like the woman who birthed you (a ridiculous notion)? I don’t really have that problem. We’ve twinned before, and it’s not a problem. If we ever get separated in the mall, we just ask those around us, “Have you seen a woman who looks like me?” (I’m joking. We’ve never done that.) The great thing too about being the same size is that we can borrow each other’s clothes (but unfortunately not shoes because she’s about two sizes smaller than I am).

Coffee addiction is prevalent in Gilmore Girls, but perhaps not so much in the White household. We drink it, sure, but we don’t need it through an I.V. Creamer also factors into the equation. And Lorelai and Rory do not use creamer. So there’s that. A huge difference, I know. We may not pig out on pizza, burgers, Chinese, and doughnuts all in one sitting on a Friday night, watching terrible movies while simultaneously making fun of them, but we do like eating (I probably eat more than her though, in all honesty). And my favorite part? Our workout plans. ‘Plans’ being the operative word. We plan on working out to Blogilates (pilates by Cassey Ho), but do we? No, we do not. But it’s the thought that counts, right?

Sure, I’m making my relationship with my mom sound peachy and perfect, but, also like Lorelai and Rory, we have our arguments and our disagreements. However, the fact of the matter still stands, she’s my best friend, and I love her (I think that goes without saying). There are going to be complications in any relationship, but the mother-daughter relationships (in most cases) are built to last and stand strong. My mom is a role model to me on so many levels: her faith, her hair, her ageless features (I mean, seriously folks, she’s been called a vampire before), and her compassion. I look up to her and take her word in close judgement. I’m sure this all sounds sappy and heartfelt, and possibly typical of those, “I love my mom,” articles, and you’d be right. It is sappy, kind of like maple trees, but it’s sweet too. My mom is the Lorelai to my Rory. *cue Gilmore Girls theme song*