7 Powerhouse Women on the Most Important Life Lessons They Learned From Their Mothers

"Why aren't you shining?" my mother would scold lightly, anytime I emerged from my childhood bedroom clearly not having oiled my skin. She taught us we were never to walk outside looking dull or ashen. For as long as I can remember, my mother kept our bathroom cabinet stocked with cylinder bottles of natural oils: coconut, almond, avocado, castor, even the cold-pressed argan she could not afford. She governed over her children not with commands but with questions, the effect of which, I think, was to inspire us to look to ourselves for guidance rather than anyone else. When I forgot to oil, she asked me why I would leave my home without shining. We were to be shining, she would often exhort, so that the world outside of us knew we were stars. We were to be glowing with health, so that each time we crossed our legs or extended an arm in class, our peers knew we were confident. We were to shine, because our environments were set on dimming the light of young black girls. To this day, I can't leave my place in the mornings without spending that time in my bathroom naked with my skin, building up my shine, my defense.

My parents got divorced when I was 12 years old. The divorce put a lot of financial pressure on my mother because she also chose that time to start a business. During those years when she was stressed out about money, we always had plenty of healthy food to eat. My mother always taught me "food is not something to skimp on." This lesson has stuck with me. Recently as an entrepreneur myself, married to another entrepreneur, I've had to make many financial trade offs, but healthy and fresh food in the house has never been something I have chosen to compromise. I'd much rather cancel cable TV, carry an old phone, or go without new clothes if it means I can make sure family is eating well.

My mother is the engine that powers my life. I came out of a feminist womb so my mother simultaneously embodies the person I'm fighting for and the person I want to become. My favorite thing about my mom is that she is genuinely fuckless, which my friend, and ELLE contributor, Ashely Ford describes as "being the state of giving few, if any, fucks about what others think of you, or what you choose to do." My mother makes aging, what society teaches women to fear, something that I'm absolutely excited about. I can't wait to be just like her. Most people confuse standing up for yourself with being self-interested when it's really about self-preservation. My mom has taught that me you can't care for others if you don't care for yourself too.

My mother has taught me many amazing lessons in my life but the one that stands out is Perseverance Pays. My mother is an entrepreneur in her own right. She started her own graphic design agency when no one would hire her in the Mad Men era. (She then beat them all and stole their accounts.) When I started my own line three and a half years ago, my mother told me to try, try, and then try again. Perseverance was hard against unsurmountable odds but now my business has taken off. Perseverance does indeed pay.

The most important life lesson I've learned from my mom is to define happiness on my own terms. I remember telling a friend I wasn't planning to have children and he asked "but how does your mother feel about that?" I laughed and replied, "Well I'm in my 30s so I don't think I need her permission to make decisions." He didn't laugh, but simply stated, "A lot of parents would be upset."

When I recounted the conversation to my mom she laughed too and shared that she had a similar exchange with someone inquiring when I would be "giving her grandchildren." After my mom responded, "probably never," apparently the person also asked how she felt about this. To which my mom replied: "'What do you mean how do I feel? It's her life and I want Keli to do whatever makes her happy.'" She then said the words I've never forgotten: "When will people learn that we all have to define happiness for ourselves, and not let others define it for us, whether that's our parents or society." Right on mom! And THANK YOU!

"You can have it all but not at the same time." My mom first shared the phrase when I was in my early teens, which meant I had no benefit of the long view of life and thought she sounded ridiculous. Of course I was going to have it all at the same time. Wasn't that the whole point of being a liberal young woman with infinite opportunities ahead? But my mother was anything but a shrinking violet on life's playing field. After all, this was a woman who took me to pro-choice rallies before I was ten and launched an independent education magazine when I was in middle school. At the time, what I didn't realize she meant was that life is experienced in acts. Sometimes those acts overlap and sometimes they don't. And though everything wonderful in life is possible, any choice you're passionate about will likely require a realistic tradeoff. One only has so much time, energy, finances, and emotional bandwidth to fully commit to all your interests and loved ones simultaneously, forever.

My mom, Melinda, taught me maybe the most important thing needed for success in life—to believe that I could do anything if I tried. It's a very privileged lesson—because I'm white, because I grew up upper-middle class—the reason it's called privilege is it gives you a leg up throughout life in all kinds of subtle and not so subtle ways. And without question it's easier for well off white people to get ahead in life than others, no matter how hard they try. But for sure, if you don't try you'll fail. And a healthy sense of personal power is essential to success. If you don't believe in yourself, no one else will. As a working mom, an executive, at a time when no one else I knew had a mom who worked, my mom was a role model. And she taught me how to use my own power to help others. And believing in yourself also means believing you can help change the world. My mom also taught me that butter is the healthiest thing you can eat. I'm not sure about the wisdom of that particular advice, but it's sure stuck with me. Especially around my hips.