Anna Sahun: "It's good to tell your children the truth to establish a relationship of trust."
Theater, film, and television actress and mother of Lia and Bruna, ages 16 and 14. She has appeared in the series 'Porca misèria', 'La Riera', and 'El crack'. She has received the Butaca and Margarita Xirgu awards. She is currently performing at the Teatro Condal del Paralelo in the comedy 'Laponia', by Cristina Clemente and Marc Angelet, where she plays the role of a mother who has decided to raise her daughter without telling her any lies, which puts her at odds with her sister and brother-in-law.


BarcelonaI've always believed I lie enough at work without having to lie to my daughters too. At home, we've never been politically correct, if being so meant going against our feelings. I've often preferred to keep quiet rather than tell them a lie.
Do you remember any specific situation?
— A few years ago, when everything came to a standstill because of the pandemic, Bruna was very worried that if the theaters closed, neither her father nor I would be able to work, and this would end up being catastrophic for the family, as we wouldn't be able to pay for food, bills, or the house. She saw that her friends' parents were continuing to work online, but she didn't see any way out for her parents.
And what did you tell him?
— It was a distress I shared with her. It worried me too. But I tried to ease her mind by telling her we had savings to get through periods of job instability that come with the trade, and that we'd surely get through that one way or another. We don't want our children to suffer, but when they see you suffering, you can't leave them out of it because they're smart and they see it.
Lapland It poses a dilemma: you must always tell your children the whole truth.
— It's good to tell your children the truth, to set an example and establish a relationship of trust. Although, in the early stages, we made exceptions at home regarding the Three Kings, the Tío, and the Tooth Fairy, to play with the illusion.
In this, we all do the same, but what about more complex issues?
— When my grandmother died, my daughters were 6 and 4 years old, and a relative told them she had gone to heaven. I told them we wouldn't be able to see her anymore, that we could only continue remembering her in photos or by talking about her. Years later, my little girl confessed to me that she had never fully understood everything anyone had told her about heaven.
In what you say about the illusion, about making them believe in the Kings, have your daughters felt deceived?
— They wouldn't change a thing. It was a time they remember as very happy and full of hope, although there was a moment of disappointment afterward when they learned that none of these magical beings existed.
How are you coping with your teenage years?
— When they were little, I felt lazy just thinking about it. Now that we're thinking about how wonderful adolescence is, it's very different in each case. You're in full bloom and overflowing with enthusiasm andembodiesBut the other is more introspective and restrained. But essentially, they're the same as they were when they were little.
What aspects are you finding most difficult right now?
— Perhaps the hardest part now is trying to live with their chaos. Making them understand the importance of putting some order into their surroundings, especially in common areas. It's tiresome to constantly remind them that they can't leave clothes on the floor. It's so exhausting that sometimes I pretend I don't see it.
And how does truth and lies go with teenage daughters?
— As children, children tell little lies to keep their parents from getting angry. As adults or teenagers, they call us "older" to get more freedom. At home, we've been of the opinion that giving them freedom should be in line with the responsibility they show us. We parents have been teenagers too, and therefore, we assume they must have slipped us some lies. Sometimes we see them from afar and, with humor, we end up telling them the truth. Now I'm reminded of an anecdote about my daughter Lia, when she was about 7 years old.
Please explain it to me.
— Back then, when we were driving around listening to English songs, they loved it when I translated them. I remember one day when Bohemian Rapsody, by Queen, and just as I was translating the phrase "sometimes I wish I'd never been born," Lia chimed in and said, "Of course, why are we born if we have to die?" I was petrified. I felt like I was in a Mafalda cartoon, except I didn't laugh. She asked me, hoping I could give her some kind of answer. I simply responded with a simple "Yes, yes, of course..." and changed the station.