I’ve been the only child in my house for 11 years. My sister died when I was in the third grade, and ever since, it was just me.

But I was never really alone.

One of my mother’s brothers has three daughters, and they’re my sisters.

Biologically, we’re only cousins, but I’ve never really considered it that way.

Growing up, they wore my hand-me-downs.

We swam in the same pool and played on the same swing set.

We fought and whined and cried together.

When my dad died, I still remember crying in the arms of one of my sisters.

Our mothers applied sunscreen to all of our faces, because we’re all kind of the same kid.

We ate food from one another’s pantries and we still disagree upon which of us is the tallest.

I stopped growing in about the sixth grade, and my height is etched in the wall of their barn to prove it.

We’ve slept in the same beds and we’ve tried to see which one of us could burp the loudest.

We’ve perfected the art of the fart noise and we’ve braided each other’s hair.

We’ve hit and kicked and yelled.

We’ve caught microwaves on fire and we’ve tried to test the swimming capabilities of barn cats.

Some say two of us combined are the equivalent to half of a brain.

People find similarities in our appearances and personalities, just like sisters.

I just hope I have as pretty a heart as they do.

They never had to let me be their sister.

But they did.

Sure, our parents forced us to get along and scolded us when we didn’t, but we chose each other somewhere along the line.

You can’t biologically choose your siblings, but you have a bit of leeway when it comes to cousins.

They chose me, and for that, I’m forever grateful.

I could never ask for better sisters than the ones I have.

I have one in heaven and three on earth, and I'm eternally blessed to have them.

After all of these years, I've come to find that the difference between cousins and sisters is no difference at all.