"Sisters" is a labor of love and longing—a search for connection I never quite found within my own family. As a Venezuelan woman born in the late 1950s, I grew up in a society shaped by rigid rules of class and status. Even as a child, I questioned these structures yet quickly learned how deeply they were woven into daily life. I often compared my own family to those around me and was left with a quiet sadness. I longed to feel close to my siblings, to be seen, to belong—but instead, I often felt like an outsider in my own home.
The journey of this film began during the stillness of the pandemic, during one of my daily meditations, when I heard a voice say, "You have a sister." At first, I dismissed it—after all, I already had a sister, Fernanda. But the voice was persistent, and something in me knew I had to follow it. That whisper cracked open a door to my family's hidden past, and what started as curiosity became an emotional evaluation.
As a first-time director, this project was both deeply personal and profoundly challenging. It forced me to revisit long-held stories about my father, who passed away when I was young. His presence—or absence—was a quiet weight in my life. Through making this documentary, I began to understand the distance he held, and in doing so, I started to see him, and myself, with more compassion.
This film began as a love letter to my sister Cecilia, a woman whose existence had been kept in the shadows. I couldn’t change the past or the pain she must have felt growing up knowing she had a family that didn’t welcome her. But I could tell her story. And in telling hers, I found pieces of my own. The film became a way to reclaim my voice, my experience, and to reach for the connection I had always craved.
At its heart, this film explores the complex truths we carry within our families—the silences, the longing, and the hope. It invites audiences to question the rules we inherit, to look past appearances, and to recognize the ways in which love can be complicated by culture, circumstance, and fear.
I also hope this story offers a glimpse into Venezuelan culture—its warmth, its contradictions, and its enduring belief in family. Above all, I invite viewers to reflect on their own histories with openness, compassion, and the courage to seek truth.
