In many ways, Everything, Everything is an exploration of family dynamics—and in particular, the many different ways in which family structures can be dysfunctional and abusive, both verbally and physically. By showing how both Maddy and Olly begin to break free of their respective abusive family structures (and in Maddy’s case, discover that her relationship with Mom is actually manipulative and controlling, not innocently close), Everything, Everything suggests that choosing to make the change to free oneself from situations like these is overwhelmingly positive yet also incredibly difficult, and requires immense bravery.
Maddy’s family situation is one formed by trauma and grief. Her dad was the love of Mom’s life, but Maddy’s dad and her older brother died tragically in a car accident when Maddy was only a few months old. Around the same time they died, Mom supposedly received Maddy’s SCID diagnosis, and with the settlement money from the accident, outfitted their home with an airlock and an air purifying system and hired Carla to help care for baby Maddy. Despite the ethical questions that arise given that the book eventually reveals that Mom fabricated Maddy’s diagnosis, the two nevertheless share a close and loving relationship. They’re all the other has, given that Maddy can’t leave the house and that while Mom works outside the home, she still appears to not have much of a social life outside of spending time with Maddy. The image created by Maddy’s descriptions of her home life and of her relationship with Mom suggest that neither she nor the reader should expect anything to change without a major outside force, which comes in the form of Olly moving in next door. As Maddy and Olly grow closer and spend more time communicating over instant messenger, Maddy naturally develops a crush and begins distancing herself from Mom. Again, this shift is normal for any teen to undergo—even if Maddy isn’t, as far as she’s concerned, a normal teenager. Mom’s anger, sense of betrayal, and anxiety surrounding Maddy’s changes, however, reflects something seriously amiss in their family dynamic: the belief that nothing about it should ever change, even as Maddy grows up and enters a new stage of her life. In this sense, Mom resists a change that the novel suggests is inevitable: children will, at some point, seek to distance themselves from their parents and seek relationships, both platonic and romantic, with other people.
Through her friendship with Olly and her observations of Olly’s family out her window, Maddy gets an intimate look at his family, which is dysfunctional in a different way. Olly’s family members, most notably Olly’s mom and dad, resist change, just like Maddy’s mom does. But in Olly’s parents’ relationship, which is abusive, not changing anything has dangerous and scary consequences. Maddy both listens to Olly talk about and bears witness to Olly’s dad hit Olly and Olly’s mom, to the point that Maddy begins keeping a tally of the visible bruises on his mom. Olly explains that while his dad has always been angry, he only became physically abusive (to his knowledge) about a decade ago. Following the first instance of physical violence, he promised to reform, but he continues to verbally abuse everyone in the family on a daily basis and physically abuse his wife semi-regularly. In the course of sharing this history with Maddy, Olly notes that he’s talked to his mom at several points about leaving his dad, but his mom continues to insist that she believes Olly’s dad will change—something that his actions suggest won’t happen. Through the dynamics of Olly’s family, the novel shows how abusers like Olly’s dad rely on family members’ fear of making a change, like leaving, so that they can continue to abuse their victims. While it’s important to keep in mind that leaving an abusive situation like this can be extremely dangerous for victims—and the novel never condemns Olly’s mom for staying—remaining in an abusive situation is still a surefire way to guarantee that the abuse will continue unchecked.
Ultimately, both Maddy and Olly’s mom are eventually able to stand up to those who control them and make necessary changes to improve their lives. Maddy does so by discovering her fraudulent SCID diagnosis, which Mom fabricated as a product of her own trauma, grief, and overprotectiveness. Olly’s mom does so by covertly moving herself, Olly, and Olly’s sister, Kara to New York while Olly’s dad is at work one day. Both choices require intense bravery. Up to this point Maddy has never been in a situation where she had any reason to question Mom’s honesty, making calling her out and seeking testing to confirm her suspicious an exercise in courage at home—in addition to the fact that for testing, Maddy has to navigate the outside world for only the second time in her life. For Olly’s mom, leaving her husband requires immense bravery and a willingness to put herself and her children in potential danger if her husband were to discover her plan beforehand.
In both cases, however, Everything, Everything suggests that the changes that Olly and Maddy’s families undergo as a result of these acts of bravery are necessary, important, and positive. Maddy discovers that she does indeed have a future out in the world ahead of her, while Olly, Kara, and Olly’s mom are finally in a situation where they don’t have to fear for their safety. Through this, the novel makes the case that change within families, especially when it’s either a normal part of children growing and changing or to free oneself from abuse, isn’t a bad thing by any means. It may be difficult for those in the thick of it, but Maddy’s sense of freedom and Olly’s clear happiness once he’s away from his dad are testaments to the power of making these changes.
Family, Abuse, and Bravery ThemeTracker
Family, Abuse, and Bravery Quotes in Everything, Everything
I wish again that I could talk to my mom about this. I want to ask her why I get breathless when I think of him. I want to share my giddiness with her. I want to tell her all the funny things Olly says. I want to tell her how I can’t make myself stop thinking about him even though I try. I want to ask her if this is the way she felt about Dad at the beginning.
It feels strange not to talk to my mom about something, someone, who’s becoming so important to me. My mom and I are drifting apart, but not because we’re spending less time together. And not because Olly’s replacing her. We’re drifting apart because for the first time in my life, I have a secret to keep.
Olly watched the color fade in the glass and remembered the day his dad got fired and how he’d been too afraid to comfort him. What if he had—would things be different now? What if?
He remembered how his dad had said that one thing doesn’t always lead to another.
Before, I was worried about keeping secrets from her. Now, I’m worried about not being able to have any secrets at all. I know she’s not upset that I bought new clothes. She’s upset that I didn’t ask her opinion and bought them in colors that she didn’t expect. She’s upset with the change she didn’t see coming. I resent and understand it at the same time.
“Can I have my Internet privileges back?” I have to try.
She shakes her head. “Ask me for something else, honey.”
“Please, Mom.”
“It’s better this way. I don’t want you to have a broken heart.”
“Love can’t kill me,” I say, parroting Carla’s words.
“That’s not true,” she says. “Whoever told you that?”
He’s much too smart to fall for this, but he wants it to be true. He wants it to be true more than he wants the truth. The smile that breaks across his face is cautious, but so beautiful that I can’t look away. I would lie to him again for that smile.
“Of course I regret it. A lot of bad things happened on that trip. And when my mother and father died, I couldn’t go back for the funerals. Rosa doesn’t know anything about where she’s from.” She sighs. “You’re not living if you’re not regretting.”
What am I going to regret? My mind cycles through visions: my mom alone in my white room wondering where everyone she’s ever loved went. My mom alone in a green field staring down at my grave and my dad’s grave and my brother’s grave. My mom dying all alone in that house.
By eighteen years old, other teenagers have separated from their parents. They leave home, have separate lives, make separate memories. But not me. My mom and I have shared the same closed space and breathed the same filtered air for so long that it’s strange being here without her. It’s strange making memories that don’t include her.
“Maybe growing up means disappointing the people we love.”
“You should leave them,” I say. “It’s not safe for you there.”
I say it because he doesn’t know it. He’s trapped by the same memory of love, of better times, that his mother is, and it isn’t enough.
“How could you do this to yourself? You could’ve died,” she whispers.
She steps closer, hugs a clipboard to her chest. “How could you do this to me? After everything?”
He’s not sure which conversation with his mom finally convinced her. It could’ve been because he told her he couldn’t be part of the family anymore if she stayed. Sometimes you have to leave the people who love you the most, he said. Or, he says, it could’ve been when he finally told her about me and about how sick I am and how I was willing to do anything just to live. He says that she thinks I’m brave.
“Mom, it’s OK,” I say. “I didn’t really believe it anyway.”
I don’t think she hears me. “I had to protect you,” she says.
“I know, Mom.” I don’t really want to talk about this anymore. I move back into her arms.
“I had to protect you,” she says into my hair.
And it’s that last “I had to protect you” that makes a part of me go quiet.
[...]
I try to pull away, to see her face, but she holds on tight.