Growing up in my older sister’s shadow, I was the overlooked Jan Brady to her radiant Marcia. Sunbeams bounced off her blonde hair like a halo, and her effortless charm earned her awards like “best personality.” All my crushes only had eyes for her. Every teacher I encountered in her wake wondered aloud why I wasn’t more like her. She was the pleaser, I was the rebel, and we butted heads brutally growing up.
Our sibling rivalry led to screaming matches during which we kicked each other’s shins until they were black and blue and slammed doors that didn’t lock in each other’s faces, desperately trying to push them back open to continue the battle. My mom used to declare with calm conviction in the background of this chaos, “One day you’ll be the best of friends.” This ludicrous prediction would stop us dead in our tracks. “No way! That will never happen,” we’d pause to reply before announcing, “I’ll hate her forever.”
Time passed and our fighting fizzled as we were home less often and spent most of our time with friends and boyfriends. When my sister moved out after high school, I missed her company deeply.
I found myself meeting her on her adventures whenever I could
She moved to Mexico, I went to visit her for a month. She moved to Seattle, I spent a summer during college crashing on her couch. She’d get me a job where she was working, teach me how to use public transportation, how to be street smart and use common sense, what to buy at the grocery store to make a meal that didn’t come from a box.
While I once detested living in her shadow as a child, I ended up seeking shelter in that same shadow during the crucial years of my development. It was my sister’s shadow that shielded me from full-fledged adulthood coming to light before I was ready to step out into the glare.
The moments, months, and years of our sisterhood have proven that life can shape a relationship using a kind of undetectable alchemy that turns something unrefined and wild into pure gold.
Our childhood drama morphed into the bond we have today
This connection is all the more poignant given our history. She has always been one step ahead of me on life’s path, never complaining that I’ve learned from her pitfalls, never even knowing how her choices and guidance have helped benefit and shape me.
She has flown all over the country to help me pack and move houses multiple times. She comforted and held my children when they were crying babies. And since we recently moved away from living down the street from her, she mails my kids letters of encouragement and thoughtful gifts to let them know she’s thinking of them. She has been on the other end of all my phone calls to share good news or bad.
Her loyalty is unparalleled
When someone wrongs me, she’s the first person who wants to suit up and defend me. She has helped me cope with every difficult situation, big or small, that I’ve ever encountered as an adult — acting like my living, breathing compass who helps me find my true north.
My sister is my greatest confidante, cheerleader, and source of comfort and advice. No one can come close to replicating the shorthand we share. We have a lifetime of inside jokes, endless laughter over movies we watched as kids, the understanding of marital strife and parenting challenges, the same hysteria over finding a spider in the house. We know each other better than we know ourselves sometimes.
When my own kids fight and say they hate each other, it breaks my heart… but I hold out the hope that they too will become the best of friends someday, like my mom predicted my sister and I would. I’m thankful for her always, and I’ll love her forever.
