Page 84 of Sweet Madness

A flood of emotions surges through my heart—gratitude, love, and a deep sense of belonging.

I might not be biologically hers, but I’m hers in all the ways that count. The world might think otherwise, and they are entitled to their wrong opinions, but from this moment on, I will never let their words change how I see myself or the person I am to my family.

I am a girl who loves the color pink as much as I love hot summer days. A girl who loves reading romance magazines rather than gossip articles or the news. I am a girl who loves fashion as much as I love science. Someone who prefers spending a late afternoon riding Geraldine through tulip fields in Canyon Creek, Montana, rather than walking through the streets of a city with cameras in my face. But most importantly, I am a girl who loves her family with all that’s inside of me.

“I—I’ve been lying to you,” I begin, my voice trembling slightly. “All this time, all I wanted was to make you and Dad proud. But... it started hurting my heart, Mom.”

My mother’s expression softens, concern etched into every line of her face as she listens intently.

“I know it’s ungrateful of me to complain about the many blessings we have,” I continue, my words coming out in a rush. “But it’s just too much. The constant comparisons between my sisters and me... the mocking, the gossip about me not being enough, not looking anything like you. It all hurts so much, Mom.”

“My sweet girl…” Mom whispers as I spill my heart out to her.

More tears well up in my eyes, reflecting years of buried sadness and deep insecurity. I have carried this burden in silence, shielding my family from the mess inside my head and heart.

“Why, Ellaiza?” Mom’s voice comes out harshly, but her eyes are filled with love and pain for me. “Why didn’t you tell us? I suspected something was wrong when you started dressing differently and acting so unlike yourself, but I thought it was just a phase. I thought you were discovering who you are and where you fit in this world. I should’ve known there was something wrong because you have always known exactly who you are.”

“I didn’t want to burden you both,” I confess, my voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I could handle it on my own.”

“You’re never a burden to us!” she snaps, momentarily losing her composure before regaining her calm. “I can’t believe you’ve been carrying this pain alone for so long. A mother knows these things about her children. How did I miss this?” Mom’s voice breaks.

“It’s not your fault, Mom,” I blurt out. How could she blame herself? She’s been the perfect mom, even in moments when she was human and made mistakes. “I was a good actress. I even fooled myself,” I confess.

A fragile silence hangs between us until I dig deep within for the courage I’ve been missing.

I take a shaky breath, gathering my thoughts before speaking again. “I thought if I studied law and dressed and acted more like you, then the harassment would stop. And it did, for a while,” I confess, my voice tinged with vulnerability while Mom listens intently with sad eyes. “But,” I continue, my words faltering slightly, “somewhere along the way, I lost sight of who I was and who I wanted to be. I became so focused on meeting everyone’s expectations that I forgot about myself. Before I came to this town, I couldn’t recognize myself when I looked in the mirror. I saw a girl wearing colors that didn’t make her happy. A girl studying a career that didn’t bring her joy or give her a purpose. A girl who smiled for everyone even when she was hurting inside. I don’t want to be her anymore, Mom.”

I watch as Mom pats her face with a white napkin to wipe away the tears. “You don’t need to change who you are to make us proud, baby,” she says firmly. “We are proud of you just as you are. We’ve always been proud. Your uniqueness and sweet nature shine through, no matter what. And sweetheart, you and Everly are the heart of this family. You all are so different from one another, and that is what makes you all so beautiful to your father and me. We love you all for who you are, not for what you think you need to be to make us proud or please the world. The world doesn’t matter. Our family is what matters, Ellaiza, and your family loves you more than there are stars in the sky. You know that our love for you is infinite.”

In that moment, a sense of relief and peace settles over me after years of agonizing about things that shouldn’t have mattered. What matters is how I see myself—how the people I love see me. My heart feels as if it could explode with all the love I feel for Mom right now. I don’t know how she always knows exactly what to say to soothe my aching heart, but I suppose that’s the power of a mother’s love.

It heals you.

“I love you, Mom,” I remind her, my voice filled with many emotions, love and gratitude most of all.

Mom smiles warmly, her eyes shining with pride. “And I love you, sweetheart,” she replies, her voice steady and unwavering. “Always remember that when you feel like you are not enough. You are more than enough. You are perfect just as you are.”

As Mom finishes her thought, the iPad’s screen flickers. A familiar figure appears behind her—a man whose presence is as commanding as it is comforting—my larger-than-life father.

Dad, as always, looks at Mom with a gaze filled with pure love and devotion, a look of adoration that speaks volumes. He looks at her as if she is the only person in the room. However, his expression quickly changes when he sees Mom’s and my red eyes and tear-streaked faces.

His dark brows, much like my own, furrow, concern etching lines across his handsome face. “What’s wrong?” he barks, his voice tinged with worry.

Mom gives me a soft look before she turns to Dad. “First, calm down, tyrant,” she touches his chest in an affectionate manner. “Our daughter has been struggling with something for a while now, and she needs to know just how much she is valued and loved,” she gives Dad a warning glance, as if telling him to be gentle, before turning back to me.

Dad’s face softens as he steps closer to the screen, his concern visible through the screen. “Darling girl, que s'est-il passé?” he asks me what is wrong, his voice tender yet concerned.

This is it.

This is the moment I’ve been dreading for a while now, but somehow after Mom’s words of love and support, I no longer feel afraid to speak up.

Knowing I can no longer keep deceiving my parents, I decide to tell him the truth.

I swallow hard and look into his eyes—the same eyes that have always held warmth and understanding towards me, no matter what. “J'étais perdue, papa. For a long time... I was lost,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “I tried so hard to be what everyone wanted me to be, but I lost sight of who I was.”

My father’s expression softens even more, with heartbreak written all over his face. “My girl,” he murmurs, his voice laced with sadness. “You don’t have to be anyone but yourself. We love you just the way you are.” Hearing the same words from him as from Mom brings on more tears. “Tu es l'étoile la plus brillante de mon ciel.”

You’re the brightest star in my sky.

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