At my sister’s wedding reception, my mother stood up and told all 200 guests, “At least she wasn’t a complete failure like my other daughter. Even her birth ruined my life and destroyed my dreams.”

Wanted.

Cherished.

My parents loved to say she brought light back into the house.

Imagine being a little girl and hearing that your sister brought back what your own existence supposedly took away.

Clara grew up wrapped in approval.

Lessons.

Parties.

New clothes.

Forgiveness for every mistake.
I grew up in the background, where expectations were high and affection was conditional.

If I did well, it was the bare minimum.