Sister Sister

I like to believe that everyone with sisters would agree that it is one of the most difficult relationships to have.

I don’t have any particularly traumatizing stories about being neglected or mistreated by my sisters, but there were times that I felt extremely disconnected from them.

When we were young my two older sisters did everything together, they had a bond that I couldn’t seem to penetrate. When they started to have children, I resented it because we had even less in common.

So, I learned very early on to enjoy my own.

When our mom passed, what was left of the sister dynamic died too. My older sister became somewhat of a mother figure. Most times she was good at it, but the times that she wasn’t, were not always fun for me.

Instead of arguing over things like stealing clothes or hogging the phone, my older sister was signing my permission slips and handing out ass whippings.


Instead of turning to my older sister for advice, she was the one I was stomping away from whispering “Bitch” to under my breath.

My sisters were also my first experience with comparison and competition. It is no secret that I was an extremely awkward looking kid. Tall, skinny, big feet, big eyes, with short and tightly coiled ponytails.

I remember feeling like all three of my sisters had something about them that made them special.

My older sister was pretty and had the longest, thickest ponytails in the neighborhood, so she was the cute one. My middle sister got only the best grades and hardly ever got into trouble, so she was the smart one. My youngest sister was the baby so she was winning at life just because.

And I was just Indiana, somewhere in the middle.

When I went off to college, I developed a new sense of selfhood. My new friends and experiences were changing me. I struggled with the guilt of having pride over being “the one who got out”, so I would often avoid going or even calling home. I didn’t feel like my sisters would “understand” my new life.

But I also didn’t give my sisters much room to have a shared interest in my journey.

For years we tiptoed around discussing how we’d hurt each other but through conversations, some civil, many not so much…those days are far behind us.

Are we perfect, heck no! There are days I’d like to put all three of their heads between my palms and squeeze.

To be clear(er), I never questioned my love for my sisters or their love for me. There are plenty of times in my life when they’ve all had my back when I needed them.

There is no climax to this story. No culmination of events or devastating tragedies. There are no series of incidences that reached a peak of intensity so great that it pushed us closer together in recent years.

Call it serendipity, but we all reached the point of wanting to experience a new level of closeness with one another at the same time. To communicate in a way that only sisters know how.

To be closer than ever before.

Whether it is a long conversation, a text message chain, a prayer, a Facebook status, or a family trip…at this point in my life, it is important to me that I share all of my experiences with them…first.

Hug your sisters. Love them ridiculously hard and obnoxiously loud.

To sisters!

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