Ni Madre: Turns Out Ma’am Was the Nice Version

Something that happened recently reminded me that I am a little sensitive about my appearance – specifically, how old I look. Probably due to feeling like I have lost or wasted most of my “good years” being married to a good for nothing mr horrible and then spending the next decade recovering from the trauma in super unhealthy ways. I’m sure my uber critical mother didn’t help my self-perception issues either. Then I discovered something since I’ve been in Guatemala that set my teeth on edge.

The Spanish language has many intricacies to help make what you’re saying sound super specific. Such an intricacy when addressing others. Where they say ma’am in the South in the US, here they break it down by your age – specifically your perceived age. Good god.

Here is the breakdown:

• Señorita
• Señora (this one is the catch-all, and gets abbreviated to seño)
• Madre 😬 💀

So what happens? You’re in the mercado, and you ask the price of tomatoes, the vendor will greet you with whatever he feels is appropriate. Unless you’re clearly young – like it is obvious you’re a teenager, or still in your early twenties – you’re going to get seño. That’s just how it is. And I am fine with that. It’s not specific, I don’t feel it’s calling me out.

The unthinkable happened one day, though, and I got called madre. I wanted to die.

The first time I heard madre, I was with my mother. We were walking in the mercado, and someone wanted to pass by. My mother, who has zero spatial awareness, was hogging the aisle looking at her phone. So the guy says “Madre, con permiso”. He was being specific because I wasn’t the one in the aisle; she was. I asked her, why did that guy call you Madre? Specifically, it means mother, and I was thinking, how does he know she’s my mother?

Well, she says that it’s what they say when you’re older and matronly. I look at my mother, the crone in my life, and think, that makes sense. At the same time, I think: Oh my god. Are you for real? New fear unlocked: There is something specific they call you that goes beyond what they teach in Spanish class. Oh hell no.

Then one day, it happened to me. By this point, La Llorona had flown back to the US. I was walking through the mercado when I heard it. A vendor replied to my question about the price of something with “Madre”. I was instantly offended, freaked out, and filled with questions such as: What about my appearance is making me look matronly? Why now? Why me?

But I kept it all inside. Not the healthiest response, but there it is. I was then reminded of this post from 2020 where the southern version of the same thing happened to me, and I didn’t take it well. I wrote about that freak out in this post, “Say Ma’am One More Time“. Enjoy.

I won’t lie and say I’ve gotten loads better. I am either doing a better job of accepting myself, or I have gotten better at not caring how I am perceived. Either way, a win.