Selena's POV
The silence in the bedroom was thick, heavy with the lingering scent of disappointment and the echoes of my mother's words. The floral duvet, usually a haven of comfort, felt like a battlefield, each thread a reminder of the battle raging within me. I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling, the intricate molding patterns blurring into a dizzying kaleidoscope of my own insecurities. My heart ached, a dull throbbing that mirrored the persistent sting of my mother's disapproval. My eyes, red-rimmed and puffy from tears, felt as though they were drowning in a sea of self-doubt.
'Maybe they're right, Cam,' I whispered, my voice raspy with emotion. 'Maybe my parents and Eric are right. I'm a screw-up. I don't deserve love. I don't deserve you.'
Camila shifted beside me, her hand reaching out to gently cup my cheek. Her touch, always a beacon of warmth and solace, seemed to momentarily ease the tension that constricted my chest.
'You deserve everything, darling,' she said, her voice a soothing balm to my raw nerves. 'This world has so much to offer you, so much beauty and joy, and I, for one, am adamant about seeing you experience it all. And as for me... I'm far from perfect, believe me. I make mistakes, I stumble, I fall. But the only one who can truly judge me is God, and he knows my heart. He knows why I opened my home to you and Kelly. I wanted to do it. No one forced me. He's still working on me, trust me. He's still teaching me, guiding me, helping me be a better person. But I'm trying, Selena. I'm trying every day to be worthy of your love, worthy of you. And we can help each other. We can give each other a brand new start. We can build something beautiful, something real, something lasting.'
Her words, like a precious pearl, resonated with a truth that I desperately needed to hear. She was right. I deserved love. I deserved a chance at happiness. I deserved to be surrounded by people who saw the good in me, who believed in me, who cherished me. The tears that had been threatening to spill over finally broke free, cascading down my cheeks in a torrent of relief.
Camila pulled me close, her arms wrapping around me in a comforting embrace. Her warmth seeped into my bones, chasing away the chill of my own self-doubt.
'Don't let your mother's words hurt more than they should,' she continued, her voice soft and reassuring. "Anyone who would talk about a 10-month-old child that way is not worthy of your time or your tears. Their negativity is a reflection of their own brokenness, not yours. You are beautiful, Selena. You are strong. And you are loved.'
Her words were like a lifeline, pulling me back from the depths of despair. I clung to them, to her, to the hope that she offered. In that moment, amidst the wreckage of my shattered confidence, I felt a glimmer of light, a flicker of belief. Maybe, just maybe, I could find my way back to the sun, back to the joy, back to the love that Camila promised. Maybe, just maybe, I could learn to love myself, too, and embrace the beautiful, messy, imperfect truth of who I am
YOU ARE READING
The Lies We Tell Ourselves
RomansaSelena Spencer thought she had it all: a loving husband, a beautiful daughter, and a comfortable life. But beneath the surface, cracks were beginning to show. Married to the charming Eric, Selena juggles motherhood, her toddler Kelly, and a new job...
