Being an only child who wishes she weren't one, I've learned to seek siblinghood wherever I go. One of those ways is in the theatre. I've adopted many a stage sister and brother when I am cast in a show. If I'm playing a sister, I'm a sister. It's fun and fulfilling for me to be onstage and living in a circumstance where my family has more than one child. It's a special feeling for me to notice the protective glance of an older brother, or to love a little sister in a way that I haven't been able to in my personal life. The sibling love that I've experienced onstage is a gift that fulfills me long after the play is over.
I'm currently working on a piece where I play the older sister of a fourteen-year-old victim of abuse. When we're onstage, that little sister of mine is as real a sibling as I could ask for. Although our relationship is at first tumultuous, complete with hurled insults and stolen belongings, my sister's attack brings out a new level of compassion and empathy as we create a closer bond.
To my stage sister,
When I see you hurt, I hurt. When stage makeup and fake blood cover your shaky body and convinces the audience that you are in distress, I worry for your safety and want to hold you in my arms. I know it's just a play, it's just a story, but it's real to me in that moment. What can I do to stop the pain you're feeling?
Tonight in our play during a certain particularly terrifying and dangerous scene, I felt myself losing control of my limbs and falling over myself as I bounded toward you to stop you from harming yourself. In that moment, it was real for me that my sweet little sister might hurt herself and I couldn't let that happen.
In a serious play such as this, one in which my sibling is suicidal and does not have any will to live, I feel a connection, a fusion of sisterhood and a tie to my castmate that is a true and real sister love.
To my stage sister, I thank you for giving me this love and opportunity to feel this sisterhood.
I love you sister, I am here for you onstage and off.
