Sisters. Clothes-stealing, hair-pulling, room-sharing, sisters. The fights are legendary and you drove your parents absolutely insane when you two cohabited, but there is surely no one in this world that knows you better or loves you more fiercely than your sister. Sisters have a bond that no one can replicate. I mean, how many people can you have a knockdown, drag out, all out brawl with, and then still ask her if she wanted to watch the new episode of Supernatural with you, because you couldn’t dream of catching up without her. Sisters are your first secret keepers and the only person you’d think to call at 2 a.m. when you’re out doing something stupid and know that your mom might actually kill you if she found out. Sisters are more than just your first best friend, they can also be your hero.
If I was the sun, my sister would be the moon. We have been so polar opposite since the day we first entered the world it is hard to believe that we entered it together (along with my brother of course). Growing up as triplets and being considered “Practically twin sisters” most people couldn’t comprehend how different we are. Growing up together, my sister and I not only had to endure those seven and a half months sharing a womb, but also shared a room for the 22 years that followed. Sharing space, sharing friends and sharing our curls and our eyes wouldn’t be the only things we’d continue to both lay claim on. When it came time for college, Casey and I both ended up falling in love with the same university, something I was secretly thrilled about and her decidedly less so. You see, I was always the one who held on to my sister a little too tightly. When we would both accidentally choose outfits causing us to match I would laugh and jump up and down exclaiming, “Yay! Twins!” (In fact, I still do!) She would instead grumble and immediately set out to change as soon as possible.
Sharing life with my sister wasn’t always easy and led to many fights involving her need for more space and independence and my need to not have her acting like my second mother. Over the years we managed to share apartments, rooms, best friends, jobs and schools together and I can still see why she felt like our identities were so entangled in one another despite being so different. I didn’t know who I was without Casey and I think part of me was always scared to start to find out.
My sister, who is actually both in size and in age (by two minutes) my little sister, has always been my fiercest protector. Being both physically and emotionally stronger than I am, I have spent years coveting her harder, no-nonsense personality and work ethic. There is no one I’ve seen work harder, through college, her master’s program, her workouts, or her career. There is no one that showed more dedication whether to sports, schoolwork, or her job than my sister. She is the epitome of strength in every sense of the word and I can’t imagine having another else in my corner.
My sister is my best friend. She is the only person who can tell I’m lying before I even begin to speak. She knows something is wrong before my eyes well up with tears. My sister is my hero because she has always fought for me, for our family, and for anyone that she cares about. She constantly puts others first and is always looking for ways to build others up even while she herself is falling apart. There’s not a single person I admire more and even when she drives me crazy, the bond we share will always be one I hold sacred. God bless the sister.
