A quick warning before you start:
This story is not necessarily about tomatoes, but soon you’ll understand how we got here… or not. I can't promise anything.

It all started during winter break. We were planning a short trip to Mexico, but hear me out… There's so much more to unpack here than just the luggage that my sister and I planned to bring. The weather was too hot for me to think straight. We were supposed to meet our family in Dallas, Texas, and then head to Cancun, Mexico. Honestly, I was not down for this “adventure,” as my sister liked to call it. But I've promised you tomatoes and we’ll get there, just like that plane did. Under stressful conditions.

My sister and I have been traveling back and forth to Mexico ever since our family stopped indulging in the same joys and started cultivating resentment and grudges. That's how I describe my parent's divorce and how the separation affected our family dynamic. Instead of picking a side, I moved in with my sister and have been trying to turn our house into a home. Sometimes I catch myself remembering how peaceful everything was, and how rich four walls and a roof could be simply by having love. That’s why every year we make sure to visit Mexico, even though things are different now.

At the airport, the security guards checked our bags and documents, and after a few questions, and some small talk on how Mexico was a great option for vacation, they let us pass. I soon realized that there was no time for small talk when I heard our names being called over the loudspeaker. It was an announcement saying the plane was departing without us, so we needed to hurry. For you, that may seem like a problem, but for me, it was just a regular Wednesday, as being late is almost like a family tradition. We finally got to our seats with everyone on the plane staring at us. After a few adjustments to our seatbelts, we were ready.

The views up there with that infinite white just like a blank canvas took my mind off of everything for a bit and made me wonder if I would ever be the main character of my own story, not just one of the sidekicks. But before I could completely surrender to that vastness, I heard a raspy voice wishing us all a nice trip. That was everything I needed to hear to finally put my headphones on and shut the rest of the world out.

Everything on that plane was so quiet that all we had left to do was close our eyes and get to our destination. It worked for a few hours… But then, all of a sudden, we heard an ear-splitting sound, which was then followed by hysteria. I read once that delusion is a condition in which the senses such as touch, smell, taste, and sight become confused, perceiving some kind of stimulus that is not really there. In our case, that noise led our ears to the worst-case scenario, even with very little evidence to justify our collective despair. ‘Til that point, I hadn't noticed this girl behind us, but after that noise, she was balling her eyes out, screaming as if everything was about to end. One by one the passengers woke up and wondered what was going on.

In the midst of all that, you would probably fear for your life, but I also knew the safety protocols, and how panicking is the first thing you should avoid. But no one seemed to care about the protocols when their life was being threatened. Every year during winter break I heard the flight attendant saying the same thing… But I never thought that I would need those instructions. "Place the oxygen mask on yourself first before helping small children or others who may need your assistance". So why would I flip the script now for a little girl I had never even seen before? I placed my mask on my face and then tilted my head so I could take a look around. They wouldn't tell us what was going on but some passengers claimed to have seen smoke on the left side of the plane. I was too far from the window to see anything for myself so I had to take their word for it.

It was at that moment that the little girl unbuckled her seatbelt and ran to the back of the cabin near the bathrooms. I heard once that we hide wherever we fit, and for being so small, it was not a problem for that kiddo. Somehow she ended up stuck in there. Not from choosing a tight spot but from the paralyzing fear that took away any chance of her getting up and facing whatever might come… But no one noticed. That's what adults do. They grow up and forget about the small things.

I had to do something, so without thinking too much, I followed in her steps. I knew it was a terrible idea, but for some reason it felt like the right thing to do. Looking around, all I could think about was getting that girl back to her seat, back to a safe place. I knew I would have to convince her that things would be alright even if I didn’t believe it myself.

The lights were low but I saw her pink bow glowing, contrasting with all those sad shades of gray. She was crying, but the moment our eyes met it seemed as though we had a mutual understanding. Unfortunately, we don't look into people's eyes very often. Maybe ’cause we’re scared of being vulnerable. It is much easier to rely on comfortable lies than painful truths, but one thing is a fact - you can't lie when you look into people's eyes. They are the window to the soul. And at that moment, the girl and I knew that we had found each other.

We talked for a while and the conversation seemed to make her feel less lonely, though it was personal for me. I told her how I remembered being scared of the dark when I was a kid, but that I had a trick. I told her, “We don't always need to see with our eyes, we can let our hearts lead the way”. She asked if I still use this trick nowadays, and I nodded, “Yes”. I lied. I stopped closing my eyes looking for fairytales and happy endings long ago so that I could grow up and become normal, like the others; as tiles on the wall, without variation. At least that's what I heard my entire life and never questioned. But surprisingly, on that day, in the middle of that turbulence, I started to question it. Even more surprisingly, during an unplanned conversation with a child that was now less scared than I was.

"It was never about being normal, with no variation", she said, "it was about being brave enough to look like you". The thought of an 8-year-old child summed it all up, and it hurt as soon as it reached my ears. It's funny how it is much easier to lose yourself than it is to find yourself. There are people who spend a lifetime being strangers to themselves, without knowing how to be who they really are, and so they copy, always living like others, following the same pattern. I believe that the girl was trying to tell me about this kind of courage. Courage that until this moment I had not had. What started as an act of kindness towards a little girl ended up being a fight with my own demons. Part of me wanted to lie to that kid and say that everything was fine but I couldn't. Instead, I told her the truth. She paid attention to every word coming out of my mouth, and in the end, she thanked me for being honest.

There is no right way to get out of a tough situation, there's only the way that's available to you. Learning this was a challenge, even for me, who got used to shutting things down instead of confronting them. Maybe that's why I felt so attached to that girl. For my entire life, I always hid whenever the unknown was out there looking for me. But the more I talked to that girl the more I realized how similar we were. Before I could say anything, she asked if I was scared. Looking into her eyes, I knew she already had the answer.

Somehow the pureness of that child touched me, accessing the deepest truth that for years I tried to hide. Already struggling to put the words together I simply opened my heart and said: "Sometimes it's hard to breathe, but not ’cause I’m short of breath… In fact, every day I miss myself, without even knowing what that means, and living that way has been suffocating me. But I don't talk about it. Instead, I keep trying to meet the expectations of others, and maybe that's why I can't tell who I am anymore”. That was the first time I said those things out loud and it was almost like a volcano, that after many years of sleep, brings out all of its intensity at the moment of eruption. The entire time we were on that plane I felt heard.

We were sitting next to each other and as I was talking I noticed that she turned so her hand could reach mine. "Close your eyes and tell me what your biggest fear is", she said. Without questioning it, I did, and of all the things I could say, “the unknown” was the first to come out of my mouth. She seemed a bit confused and even surprised with my answer and remained in silence for a few seconds, as if trying to process what she had heard. She then smiled like someone who had solved a puzzle and said: "The bad thing is not the only option. Sure the unknown is scary and can be terrifying and there is a chance things will be complicated… But know this, the next best moment of your life is also there, so will you give it a chance, or are you going to prevent yourself from finding out"?

She then left me with a secret. “It is necessary to challenge other people's expectations of you to be free. With that in mind, stop trying to be someone you’re not. Draw stick figures, sing out of tune, dance awkwardly, play on easy mode… ’Cause you don’t have to be good at the things you like, just liking them is enough”.

Before I could say anything in reply, I felt as if I was being pulled out of that dimension and things were becoming out of sync. I then noticed my sister shaking my arm in an attempt to wake me up. “Are you hungry yet? ’Cause it’s time for dinner and the flight attendant wants to know if you’re ready to order… Unless you wanna go back to sleep”, she said. I couldn’t believe that it was just a dream… I thanked the flight attendant for the offer but politely declined, and told my sister that I needed to use the restroom. I no longer knew what had happened in the real world and what was just an illusion so splashing some water on my face seemed like the best option. I entered the tight cabin and locked the door. Immediately, I turned on the water, and as I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I noticed something had changed.

I was trying to understand everything that had happened; rewinding the entire thing. I hadn't noticed before, but the little girl’s knee had a small mark. A scar hidden by the polka-dot dress and the high stockings. But as she sat down next to me, I could see it. I knew what had happened that day... After a morning of arguing and crazy words at school, I came home sobbing. The exact reason for my pain then is not present today in my memory. Usually, we forget about things that hurt, but I know that when I got home, vulnerable and completely stripped of any shame, I cried just like someone who encounters sadness and is forced to accompany it to the next station. ’Cause, that's what sadness is. Something you encounter, try to understand, accompany, and then let go.

In my culture it's common to express everything through actions instead of words, maybe that's why communication is something that I struggle with. After realizing how upset I was, my mother, who has always been of few words, went to the kitchen and came back from there with the best tomato soup I had ever tasted. I guess cooking served as a way to say that she cared and that things would be alright. While eating that hot broth I felt all the words she didn't say. At the end of the dish, she smiled in my direction and said: "On any rainy day I can teach you how to make it. It is soothing to the soul". I was much too young to comprehend it but it all makes sense now. The brightness that comes once you accept your true self instead of neglecting who you are is what I had been looking for. I know now that she was not talking about dark clouds and black skies or what was happening on the outside, but the lack of sun inside of me.

Back then I was so sure I could conquer the world, even if that was never a dream of mine. From flying high in the sky, to diving into the deepest ocean, there was just no limit. Somewhere along the way I think I started to come up with a few limits here and there, just so I could fit in with society a little better, and before I realized it, I was trapped inside my head, and that kid full of dreams grew up to be an adult with insecurities and doubts. Now I realized where I knew that little girl from. It was me all along. Full of courage but still hiding. Not from the noise, or from the people, or a plane that was about to crash... Hiding from myself, an adult who forgot to be brave.

At that moment, absolute clarity came over me. I was no longer talking to a frightened girl. I was standing in front of myself. Perhaps things would have been different if I had learned how to cook. But that dream served as a wake-up call and I knew then what I needed to do. To go out there and look for tomatoes… Because if I’m being honest, we all need tomato soup to soothe our soul.