I delayed my cancer treatment for four months so I could pay the $38,000 cost of my daughter’s dream wedding. I never told her the truth. Instead, I said the clinic was overbooked because I wanted her to have the wedding she had imagined since she was six—200 guests, roses everywhere, and the perfect dress. Watching her happiness made the sacrifice feel worth it, even though I knew exactly what those four months were costing me.

Then, last week, everything changed. My doctor accidentally mentioned the delay while talking to my daughter. She didn’t hug me or cry. On the drive home, she stared out the window and finally said, “Mom, you are so manipulative. Because of you, my wedding was…” She stopped before finishing the sentence. We drove the rest of the way in complete silence, and she hasn’t called me since.

I keep reaching for my phone, wanting to call her, but I stop myself. The hardest part is knowing she isn’t completely wrong. I made the decision for both of us without telling her. I chose to sacrifice my health because I believed giving her the wedding she dreamed about was an expression of love. But she never had the chance to decide whether she wanted that sacrifice.

Still, when I think about those four months, I know I would probably make the same choice again. I don’t know whether that makes me a devoted mother, a foolish one, or something in between. I only know that sometimes love makes people do things that don’t make sense from the outside. I gave my daughter the wedding she had dreamed of—and quietly hoped that, somehow, it would be enough.