Notes to self:Me, my mum, and I

When you're a child, the prospect seems impossible. As a teenager, you can't think of anything worse. As you reach your mid-twenties the idea becomes one that you either grudgingly accept or vainly attempt to fight against, like King Canute and the tide. And we all know how that turned out. The fact is, as women, we will turn into our mothers.

A recent study by Loma Linda University Medical Centre in California has found that mothers and their daughters age similarly. Scarily, it doesn't matter how much effort you put into slathering on eye creams every night. If your mum makes Keith Richards look good for his age, chances are, you're fighting a losing battle. Thankfully, that's not a problem with my mum. But my likeness to her has sprung up on me worryingly fast. It seems in the space of a year I have gone from being Gaby Doman, an individual and a free-thinker, into Mrs Doman, Mark 2.

My family has been mocking me ever since I got interested in yoga and Buddhism, and spending hours in bookshops browsing the "hippy dippy" section. You don't know my mum but I can assure you — that's very much her. But, with hobbies, it's easy to comfort yourself with the fact that you just grew up in the kind of environment where those things were important — of course, you'll be naturally drawn to these kinds of things. I can accept that I have interests similar to my mum. What is a little more worrying is, when you start to make the gestures she makes.

One of her favourite stories to tell is about the time when we were gossiping about something or the other and at the same moment gasped and placed our palms on our chests. Naturally, this was disturbing for me but it was a proud moment for my mum. She visited me in Dubai and we spent a lovely week seeing the sights and meeting my friends. Mum and I spent an evening, chatting and laughing, oblivious to the fact that my pals were kicking and nudging each other under the table as they watched our identical gesticulating and facial expressions. They told me later that we were amusingly similar. I look like my mother, too.

There is a photo of me in the pool with my friend and I am the spit of her. It's uncanny. Over time, I have figured it's best to just accept it. Nature is too powerful a force to fight against, so you might as well embrace it.

It's easier for me to be at ease with The Transformation than it is for some because my mum is attractive, intelligent and popular.

Seeing as my mum is sane and well-read, I can handle the metamorphosis. As somebody who doesn't like surprises too much, it's a comfort to know where I will be in the next 25 years. And, quite frankly, when I think about what I would have to be if I were to rebel against nature and become the opposite of my mum, it's not the kind of person I would like, let alone aspire to be.