Six years ago this month, I graduated from the University of Colorado, Boulder’s journalism school without really knowing what my journalistic future would hold. Throughout J-school, I would be encouraged to find local stories in the community, ended up writing about all kinds of people: a former detective in the JonBenet Ramsey case, the man who invented snowboarding, a long-time employee of the Hotel Boulderado who experienced hauntings, and even went to a Quaker meeting to see how they practice their religion. I basically investigated every story but the one closest to my heart – the story of my mother’s past.

After experiencing my first real job disappointment, coming out of school and working at a less than satisfying PR agency, I decided that before I would find another job, I would first scratch the itch that had been brewing for ten years: I would investigate the truths of my mother’s life. Ten years before I began this journey, my mom passed away from cancer complications: I was 12 years old. She had suffered for a very long time, and as her daughter, I just wanted to know who she was and what she did before she got sick. It seemed unsettling to me that I couldn’t answer simple questions to my mother’s life: “Did she graduate college / high school,” “Who did she spend time with,” “Who was her first love,” and so on. Not only that, but rumors abounded about who she was with, where she lived, and how she lived. I had a vague idea of a handful of facts that she had mentioned over the course of raising me, but I couldn’t swear to them: a location, a name, a smiling face in a picture. The journalist in me had to know more.

So for the next year and a half, I took the best approach I could: I did what a reporter would do. It seemed like the only fair way to approach learning about my mom, as simply accepting relatives’ rusty memories as facts didn’t feel right. Personally, I constantly feel misunderstood by people around me, so it just didn’t seem fair to look at my mom through others’ lenses. I had to see her from several different angles. Maybe after doing so, and after speaking to people who were close to her at different points in her life, I would begin to understand her interests, influences, and whereabouts.

Over the course of my journey, a lot of opinions came into focus for me. I almost didn’t complete what I set out to do because many people would say things to dissuade or hurt me, “Once you release the story, it’s not yours,” “It’s not your story to tell,” “She isn’t here to defend herself,” “You’ll write a book? When pigs can fly.” As if I was accusing my mother of a crime, instead of simply trying to understand what I like to call: her emotional genealogy, AKA: what made her tick, and why? I made a conscious decision to ignore these reactions I got from people because it is essentially the same thing as bullying. And after learning about my mom, I can say with utter confidence that she and I had a lot in common – she was a free spirit too, although before going on this journey, I considered myself to be quite a square, and someone who was very inexperienced.

I like to say that my college experience, and the city of Boulder chilled me out.  And likewise, investigating my mother’s life comforted me.

When a child loses a parent, and especially a girl losing a mother at such an influential age (pre-teen / teen years), there is no telling what might happen to that child. I always had to harness my own self control, do what I thought was right, and follow my heart to get to the true purpose of whatever it is I was doing. I had to be my final say, because frankly, I had no mom to give her seal of approval, so I learned at a young age, to be my own sign-off.

Even though Mother’s Day is a Hallmark holiday, it’s difficult for me to not be affected in one way or another by the day. Some years I am happy, and some I am sad. Some years I just feel numb about it. But this year, I have come to gratefulness I didn’t have before. I am so grateful that I had a mom who lived like mine did, who was brave and did what she felt was right, and wasn’t afraid to make mistakes. I am so proud of her, this Mother’s Day and always, and I am so excited to share our journeys with the world in just a few months.

I used to look for a mom replacement in my life, but this year, I have finally made peace with it. No one will ever replace my mom, and no one is supposed to. I have decided I will be the mother I lost, and the mother I want to be for my kids, and that will be all the mothering I need.

Jessica Barraco is a memoirist and writer based in New York City. Her first book, an investigative memoir from She Writes Press: The Butterfly Groove: A Mother’s Mystery, A Daughter’s Journey. You can pre-order the book, view the book trailer and visit her website.