I recently met a woman who raised me. Her name is Lena Dunham. I was invited to an event for her new memoir, Famesick, at Gloria Steinem’s house, sponsored by Warby Parker. I understand how many twists and turns that sentence took. I live a life that is both deeply unserious and never taken for granted. But I’ve been a self-proclaimed feminist and an internet obsessive as long as I’ve had −4.75 vision, so maybe the cultural crossover makes some sense.

I try not to pedestal people. It’s in no one’s best interest to have idols but it felt impossible not to geek out over the fact that I was somehow sitting cross-legged on the floor of Steinem’s home listening to her drop F-bombs and talk shit about Philip Roth, while in conversation with Dunham, the woman who inadvertently guided me through the shitstorm of my 20s via the blueprint of her hit HBO show, Girls. My entire personality and the early part of my writing career were built on the belief that I was a Jessa, when really I was a Marnie in Hannah’s clothing.

There’s a chance I came out the womb with a Jessa sensibility, but probably not, because she likely resembled a cherub baby, and I was born with jaundice. My internal monologue and hyper-niche, hyper-online brain were molded by women like Dunham and an army of mothers of pop culture that came before me.

I should make it clear that a mother, to me, can be anything. In the larger (read: gayer) sense of the word, a mother doesn’t have to be a parent or even a woman. The title is tossed around a bit too freely these days, but the root of the word, which stems from the Black and Queer ballroom scene, is about leadership, caretaking, paving a new way, and serving cunt. Use that information as a barometer and read along with an open mind.

These pop culture mothers gave me a backbone, a roadmap, an attitude problem, and some of my most basic values and ethics.

Madonna

Madonna might sound like a cop out, but this is a very specific cosign. Madonna became my mother the second I saw what her knees could do during her 2001 Drowned World Tour, and it cemented for me when I FINALLY watched that one interview clip where she gets really hot and demands a fan. "I have a problem with the fact that there is no air in here, and I'm going to die. Open the door NOW!” The most beautiful thing a woman can be is dramatic. This brief exchange between her and some poor scrambling set PAs taught me the art of unabashedly advocating for my needs.

Rihanna

Rihanna is an actual cop out. I don’t care. This is my truth and I haven’t lied in two years. Having a mononym is mother behavior. Rolling a joint on your security’s bald head at Coachella is mother behavior. Having your shoulders back and your titties up and out, especially when covered in Swarovski crystals, is mother behavior. Never being anywhere on time is definitely mother behavior, just ask mine.

Martha May Whovier

Martha May Whovier (Christine Baranski) may not have had any children, but this woman gave natural birth to me when she thrust her hips forward and used a light cannon to decorate her Whoville estate. More domme femmes need to be represented in media. It is a scene that makes any young lesbian sit up straight. Keri Hilson said it first, but pretty girls really do rock. Most importantly, Martha May showed me love is not about looks but about mutual disdain for an opp. And Christmas.

Jackée Harry

I love it when a woman has a mouth on her—what can I say? I have one too, and I’m not afraid to use it, all thanks to Lisa Landry. Jackée Harry in Sister, Sister is a total mess (complimentary). And that’s what motherhood is to me: being both loud and often wrong. Motherhood is having a good blowout and sexual tension with your children’s father. Motherhood is always carrying a quippy retort in your back pocket and being totally insane.

Queen Latifah

Queen Latifah in Beauty Shop. Queen Latifah in Hairspray. Queen Latifah in Last Holiday. Queen Latifah in Ice Age. Queen Latifah in Thom Browne, always. Queen Latifah in Set It Off. Queen Latifah in Just Wright. Queen Latifah in the opening scene of Taxi. Queen Latifah in Bringing Down The House.

The mom from Easy A (Patricia Clarkson)

Behind every great woman is her gay husband. I grew up with divorced parents, so it is always important for me to see healthy relationships on-screen. Rosemary Penderghast (perfect name, no notes) does the kind of soft parenting TikTok moms can only dream about. I would be entertained listening to Patricia Clarkson read a telephone book, but she and Stanley Tucci simply speaking the letter “T” or every single line reading in this scene from Easy A will change the trajectory of your life. It changed mine.

Tyra Banks having never yelled at a girl like that in her life (on ANTM)

I can’t in good faith call Tyra Banks a mother, but I did see the spirit of my mother leap out of her when she berated Tiffany on America’s Next Top Model, Cycle 4. Sometimes you watch a reality TV clip, and you're transported to the bra section in Nordstrom Rack at age 13.

Strega Nona

When someone says bring out your baddest bitch, it’s always Strega Nona for me. She may have been a witch, but she was a caretaker first. There’s nothing more maternal or Italian than a woman who constantly wants to feed you, especially with dense carbs. The story of Strega Nona is a lesson in community building as well as a warning about men who don’t know how to listen to directions (hint: it’s all of them).

The Original Aunt Viv

I need to give (the dark-skinned) Aunt Viv her flowers, a bouquet, honestly, a botanical garden. This is a woman who is caring, patient, and strict with it when she needs to be. There is a dance class scene in The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air that is burned into my brain, in which Aunt Viv’s skill level is doubted by a group of younger dancers. Not only did it radicalize me about the importance of showing off, but learning the dance itself has proven to be an incredible party trick. An auntie can also be a mother, and we don’t talk about that enough.

Toni Collette

I simply couldn’t decide if Toni Collette was more mother in that one dinner scene in Hereditary that every good gay person is off-book on, or as all the versions of Tara Gregson in United States of Tara, a TV show too many people slept on, but not me! I will avenge you, Diablo Cody!

Teyana Taylor (The Queen of New York)

To be a mother is to be a multi-hyphenate, by the way. From her abdomen in the Fade music video, to her belly and her machine gun in One Battle After Another, to the way she fixes her mom’s dress on the carpet, to the way her daughter fixes her dress on the carpet. My fingers are twitching, wanting to write something sexual, but I already did that with Christine Baranski, and you can just check my Twitter account for that.

The Nutbrown Hare from Guess How Much I Love You

In contrast to everyone above, this is going to sound like a major tonal shift, but please know I’ve been serious this whole time. This book is the reason why my mom calls me Bunny. This is the book that has been ours for forever. This is a book I will read to my future children if I need another way to tell them how much their mother loves them.