Our mothers reacted differently.
Her mother rejected not only me but the idea of me. Her little bird was, in her estimation, not ready to leave the nest. Eventually, grudgingly, that evolved to acceptance. But she was never friendly to me, not until years later under vastly altered circumstances.
Whereas my mother luuuuved her. Because I did. Hugs, welcomes, pictures together. Until the nonstop stream of transparent lies at last got under her skin. Then she detested her, with cold contempt.
My mother's trajectory was similar to that of my friends. They all loved her, until they didn't. Usually when they caught her lying, or saw her treating me poorly.