"It takes a village to raise a child."

In my case particularly, this is a true statement. My neighbors, teachers, coaches, and, more than anyone else, friends' parents, were as critical to my upbringing as my own parents and family.

As children, we learn from the adults around us, whether we intend to or not. I had many mothers mother me, and it gave me an insight to not just other people's families, but the different ideas that women have about their family and children. Some were more strict than others, and a few grew lax over time. I realized I learned something from everyone, and they're all big pieces of who I am today. I've listed below the most important lessons I've gained from the moms who let me borrow them when I needed them.

Darleen's mom: How to be tough.

I've known Darleen and her sister since we were in kindergarten, but don't remind them because they'll only tell you how much they made fun of me. I was under the impression that we were best friends? It wasn't until we were teenagers that I met her mom, and I was surprised when I saw her. She looked nothing like Darleen, and everything like Cher--tall, vibrant, and present; her mom made it clear that she was there. There were plenty of incidents that I won't go into (more than anything, so Darleen doesn't make fun of me) where I committed a serious error, as well as many times that I had to crash on their couch or shower at their place.

Her mom never let me feel bad about what I did (even if it was hitting her son's car) or sorry for myself. She reminded me that I needed to keep on keeping on and to hold my head up. My favorite memory though, which I think sums her up pretty well, is from a time Darleen and I were going to go out late at night and we were worried about someone hassling us. She told us, "You tell those m****er f*****s that you're MY kids and they won't be hassling you no more! You hear me?" Badass.

Hazel's mom: How to have fun.

When I was in 4th grade, I had to switch schools for some time. When I came back after the summer in 5th grade, all my friends had gone to summer school and made friends with some girl named Hazel. Without knowing her, I hated her because I felt like she essentially stole my friends. We eventually met in middle school, and that dislike intensified. Through a series of events that I'm still not clear on, our mothers got to know each other and forced us to hang out with one another. Over time, a real friendship grew, and most of my memories from high school revolve around eating and sleeping at her house. Like friends that become sisters, that meant I was a surrogate kid to her parents. Out of the two of us, I SWEAR I was the good one, but it never looked that way on paper. Somehow I was the one who managed to get Hazel to sneak out, when really... okay, it was me.

Anyways, since I was at her house so often, I was usually there for family parties, and would see how her mother celebrated. Hazel's mom is generally pretty cheerful anyway, but those nights she would stop being strict (well, not that she was, but everyone is strict when you're 17) and it felt like she was our friend. We could say the most vulgar things, and her answers would be even worse. Recently, her mom just finished her final session with chemo after a tough bout with cancer. She spent most of her battle laughing and making dirty jokes. Even in the scariest fight of her life, she had a smile on her face.

Marlene's mom: How to have faith

My friendship with Marlene stems from my relationship with Hazel. They were friends a year before Marlene and I started talking, but that's mostly because I had Marlene in a class and she never smiled and looked scary as hell. She had (actually, still has) a face that looks like she can beat the Jesus out of you, and you would never guess that her small frame contained a big personality. But once Marlene and I were friends, we were inseparable. If my mom couldn't find me at Hazel's, then she'd find me at Marlene's. And if no one could find us anywhere, we were probably up to bad shit. I was also a frequent guest at family parties, eating the customary tamales and posole, grabbing a piece of someone's birthday cake, or trying to shove beers under my sweater as we walked away from the gaze of adults.

Marlene's mom took me to my very first prayer circle. I came because there was the promise of tamales after, considering it was Christmas time and they were aplenty. She said I didn't have to pray with everyone else since I wasn't a Catholic, but to just be in the room. As I sat on the couch and listened to what they were praying for, I realized for the first time that people will pray for the best for others. They asked God to heal their sick friends and family, help those who are struggling financially, or to bring happiness to people who had been dealing with depression. No one asked anything for themselves, which wasn't how my usual conversations with God went. Every time I saw her afterwards and would mention something I was going through, she'd say she was praying for me. And I knew she meant it.

Gema's mom: How to keep things running

Another friendship I've had since middle school, except unlike my relationship with Hazel, I actually got along very well with Gema. We met each other in an art class, and she convinced the only student in class who didn't speak English that my name was "Sexy". I'd hear "Hey, Sexy!" across the hallways until I went to high school... Anyways, that friendship led to a lot of naps. Meaning that I'd come to Gema's house, eat whatever her mom made, and then promptly pass out on their couch. Talk about making yourself at home, huh?

While I'm certain that her traditional-style parents weren't too fond of me eating and crashing at their pad, I'm pretty certain they got used to me. I didn't exactly become a piece of furniture, but I'd wake up to dinner and a place at their table for me. Gema's mom was the manager of the house: she got everything done for everybody else, including her four kids. She'd cook, clean, organize, schedule, pick-up, drop-off, cater, run a business, and do a million other things while I would be sleeping, but still made herself available if any of us (yes, including me) needed anything. I went from moocher to honorary... okay I'm still a moocher, but I'd like to think part of the family as well.

Lizette's mom: How to multi-task

Like Gema, I met Lizette in middle school and immediately bonded. I don't remember what happened, but some girl made me cry so we became friends. That actually is a regular way that I make friends, so maybe it's just a personality trait. Also like Gema's mom, I'm pretty sure I drove Lizette's mom low-key bananas. I was obnoxious, rude, and sometimes plain naive, without intending to be, which sometimes is worse. One time, I forgot my ID right before taking the SATs and I looked frantically for someone to take me back home. I saw Lizette get dropped off and I called out, "Liz, ask your grandma to take me home!" An angry head popped out and yelled, "This is her mother!" She took me home anyway, but it was a very quiet car ride.

Lizette's mom also had 4 kids, but under the age of 10. Now that I think about it, I don't know why her and Gema's mom aren't friends, because she also helped to run a business and manage everything that was happening at home. She'd be making sandwiches for one kid while cleaning up the mess after another kid, while trying to get a sleeping kid off her couch (that was me, really, I slept on everyone's couches). She's the one who told me once, "I don't know whether to hug you or give you a kick in the ass." Both worked just fine.

Jessica's mom: How to be kind

Down a very long street lived Jessica, who was Lizette's cousin. My friendship with Jess really bloomed my senior year when I was finishing my final season on the swim team and also trying to survive until graduation. Everything about that year was painful, hectic, and frustrating, but honestly, having Jessica's family there made things so much easier for me. I'd follow Jess home, be given a snack or late lunch, take a nap, be woken up for homework, then eat dinner and be taken home. They essentially babysat me, and it was the only thing that kept me together.

My situation was pretty unstable, so knowing that I'd have a meal to eat and a safe place to hang out really helped me much more than I think I ever let them know. Jessica's mom did a lot for me--she tailored my prom dress for one (that I later won queen in, so that was pretty cool), made me whatever I wanted whenever I hungry, and always tried to give me a ride when she could. Jessica learned a lot of her best traits from her mother: being altruistic, genuine, and just a sweet person overall. It made me feel lucky to be her friend.

Crystal's mom: How to have trust

Alright, last person on this list from middle school and high school. I'd like to think that I was Crystal's very first friend when she moved to our town, and I also credit myself for introducing her to her fiancée. So does Crystal owe me her life or what? Well, not so much. I was in a tough situation my first year of college (my life really has been nothing but tough situations to be honest) and Crystal let me move in with her so I'd have a stable place to live. We've had our ups and downs, but she's always been there for me no matter the circumstance (except when I was trying to suffocate her with a pillow, then she was just trying to get me off of her. Another sister-friend?).

I don't have as much of a relationship with her mom as I do with the others, but she showed me something that I didn't see too much growing up. She really trusted Crystal with the decisions that she made. Crystal could go out on all kinds of adventures that would make another mother worry, and her mom would know that she only picked the best people to be around her. She's one of my more well-traveled friends, but I never heard her mom freak about how far away she was going to go or what she was going to do. That always reminded me that if I ever had a kid someday, I should trust that they'd know what the right thing to do for themselves would be.

Christian's mom: How to throw a party

Finally! Someone I met after high school! Except not really. I knew who Christian was when I was a freshman--he was an anchor for our school's video announcements, and he'd sign off with, "You stay classy!" I didn't get it because I didn't know it was a line from Anchorman, but when I finally watched the movie my freshman year of college, I had spit out my cereal and yelled, "That's where it's from!" He had long-graduated when I was still a freshman, so I figured I'd never get the chance to talk to him about it. Well, he was friends was Crystal, I was roommates with Crystal, and as I do, I started showing up to his house for dinner. Our friendship started, and I proceeded to watch La Bamba and scream "Riiiitchie!" on his couch, celebrate New Years, drive over after a fist fight, go camping, and enjoy lots of parties.

Christian's mom is literally a powerhouse. Also with 4 kids (really guys, what's up with this? I forgot to mention Marlene is also a part of 4. So many babies, so little time), his mom worked a full-time job while having the best-decorated house and some of the most delicious food ever. Holidays at their house were the best, because they always had great music playing, a buffet of food (which is the most important, in my opinion), lots of games and activities, and the whole place would be decked out. Ever the gracious host, she'd make sure you either had a drink or a plate of food in your hand. I asked to be adopted a few times, but Christian would always yell out, "I have enough sisters!"

Sharon's mom: How to be accepting

Okay, I was out of high school for this one, but I was working at my old high school so... it half and half counts. I was an AVID tutor, and on my very first day of work, I met a little freshman named Sharon that reminded me so much of me! I had just started college and was going through the awful experience of being the youngest class again, so when I heard this chick talking about all her hopes and dreams for the upcoming year, I was impressed by how smart and optimistic she was. But like all dreams, everything dies... just kidding. Life just gets harder when you think you've got it all figured out. I watched Sharon grow up and deal with a lot of the same things I had to deal with (except she was way more mature about it, I'm pretty much walking drama).

Her mom was always very cool with me, no matter what Sharon had gotten herself into. I don't know if she knew that I had once been in Sharon's place, but I figured as much--big stretched out ears, lip and noise piercings, occasionally changing hair colors, and tattoos every where you looked--didn't exactly scream ROLE MODEL but her mom trusted me to take her out or talk to her about the hard stuff. I realized over time that maybe her mom did understand I had "been there" before and that I turned out pretty okay. Instead of trying to change who I was or wish that I was a different person, I got nothing but respect and love from her. I saw that in the way she treated Sharon. Most of the time, you see parents trying to put their own ideals on their kids, and repressing who they really are. Sharon's mom loves Sharon for Sharon, and that's a pretty badass thing to see.

Letty: How to forgive

I met Letty when I was six years old. My mom was looking for a babysitter, and one way or another, was referred to her. Letty gets to be just Letty, and not referred to as someone's mom, because while she is a mom (to 3 kids, not 4, thank God), she was like a second mom to me. I grew up doing everything in my power to misbehave and not follow her rules. I didn't nap at nap time, but would pass out later underneath the kitchen table while she was cooking. I'd fall asleep in the car, even if it was a 10 minute drive, which resulted in her having to try to pull me out, with both arms filled with groceries. I got the other kids she watched in trouble, and was notorious for hitting my brother and pretending like I didn't. At the same time, I was her shadow and everywhere she went, so did I. Part of it is attributed to me being the only girl, so most of the time I had to be brought along (or else I would try to hit the boys) but I also enjoyed being around her. I'd always get life wisdom, in between quesadillas and Mexican cookies.

As I grew older, I found that I could still sit at the kid's table, be given a snack, and talk about whatever was on my mind. Long after Letty stopped babysitting us, my mom was diagnosed with cancer and my life turned upside down. Letty stepped in and drove my mom to her appointments, picked up her medication, brought her food, and waited with us while my mom was in surgery. Babysitter didn't seem like the right word for her anymore. It was more like she became my fairy godmother. For me, the godmother part always stuck.

I grew up very angry with the world around me. It's funny because so many people think that just because I write, I'm able to express how I feel, when sometimes it's the complete opposite. I can be so filled with sadness or frustration that I'm only able to shut down. Letty was able to help me deal with those feelings and would listen every time I needed to vent or cry. I never was hungry at her house, because I'd always have a brownie, a banana, or a quesadilla in my hand. Her first name means "help" in Spanish, and even though she already calls me a map because of my tattoos, I got one that represents her. It's rosary around my left ankle, because I feel like she has always been there to guide me when I'm weak.

I carried around a lot of bad feelings in my heart, but she always reminded me to forgive and let them go. "Everyone is trying their best, and understanding that helps you understand them." I try to keep that in mind when I start going under. When I graduated high school, she told me, "Okay now, don't be a stranger and don't get lost." She's repeated that to me in every step of my life that I've taken: moving out of my mom's house, graduating college, and moving to NYC. She doesn't have to worry--I always feel like I'm home when I come visit her.

My mom's mom: How to be sassy

What can I say about Persian women? There's a million jokes about us: we get nose jobs, we love cats, we're hairy, we're fancy bitches, and everyone is a doctor, a lawyer, or an engineer (one of my aunts is both a lawyer and engineer, so she takes the cake for sure). I grew up in fear of my grandma, mostly because we didn't speak the same language and I'd only see her once every few years. Her first name is my middle name, so while we have that connection, I felt like I mostly drove her nuts. Grandmas are for making you food and hugging you, but my grandma also chased me around the house for whatever misdeed I committed and would hide the desserts when I was being punished.

It wasn't until I got older that I realized what a bad mamajama my gma was. She did a lot of the same stuff I did that made my mom lose her bananas, like borrowing her things and not putting them back, being OCD-clean, talking loudly when everyone is being quiet, and telling my mom to relax when she was stressing us out--well, we are like the same people, just generations apart.

My grandma came to visit me last year in NYC, and while at first I dreaded the trip because of our still-present language barrier (yup, neither of us learned in the 24 years I've been alive), it actually turned out to be a lot of fun. I'd come home every day to dinner, and leave the next day with breakfast and lunch. I thought I was clean, but my grandma is the OG of spotlessness. And while at first she hated my cat Butters eating on the table with us, she eventually grew to love him. One day, she had fallen while crossing the street, and a crowd of kind New Yorkers came to pick her up. She started swinging her purse at them and told them to leave her the hell alone. My grandma then used some supernatural burst of strength to pull herself up and act like nothing happened. I can only hope when I'm her age I can be just as much as a tough cookie.

My mom: How to be mischievous

Not a lot of people know my mom--even some of my very best friends haven't had much of an opportunity to spend time with her. But the people who do know her, and have known me for some time, tell me the same thing: we are exactly the same. You know how it's every daughter's worse fear that they'll turn into their mother? Well, I often catch myself in mid-conversation acting like her or saying something that she says. She has a pile of catchphrases that I use often, but I'm usually convinced it was something I had made up.

One of the things I've inherited the most from her is her sense of humor. My mom is a huge fan of George Carlin and Robin Williams, and their potty-mouth insights about life are a big reason why. She can be cynical, sardonic, sarcastic, and vulgar--all of my favorite things to be. When people first meet me, they ask why am I so mean. I don't think I'm mean, I see it the same way my mom sees it: we think we're being funny and that whatever we are saying is obviously not the truth. It doesn't work well in our favor every time, but the people who love us really love us, and the people who hate us... well you can figure that out.

Beyond being a sassy cat lady, I'd like to think I've gained a lot more of my mother's strengths. She incredibly determined and hardworking--she has been working long hours and multiple jobs for most of my life. She's damn good at what she does and is routinely praised for it. My mom also is the kind of friend that will go all-out for you, and is a deeply dedicated friend. If she can help you out, she will--and if she can't help you out, she still will. My mom is generous, friendly, and a thrill-chaser, and does whatever the hell she wants. For everything that can go wrong when growing up to be like your mother, I think there are plenty of amazing things that I'll be getting out of it.

In several cultures, mothers are the dominant role in the household. More or less, they're the ones who get everything done, and decide what everyone is going to do. While my childhood and young adulthood were nothing close to perfect, I was pretty lucky to see how these other women were raised, all of whom I'm still friends with today. Letty always told me, "Learn from the good and disregard the bad." I got to see a lot of good in the way of raising children, as well as the common things parents run into. It made me realize that some things don't happen to just me, and that my family was more normal than I thought. Did I mention the best part? I always got dinner. Beyond all the psychological and emotional support I received... I think there's nothing better than that.