Dear whomever this may concern,
Marty and Sean taught me nearly everything I know about the world. They taught me how to be “cool” when I was eight, how to hit a ball, and how to be tough. No one was ever surprised that I was a tomboy growing up because of how much I looked up to my big brothers. If you had asked me when I was eight what I wanted to be I would have told you that I want to be like my big brothers. It wasn’t until I realized that I had to be my own person that I began to get a little frazzled in my position in this world. For the longest time I was sure that the only way to get by in life was to be strong, smart and tough, and yet I found myself struggling the older I got. I had no idea how to be a “normal” girl. I didn’t like makeup, I didn’t know how to do hair, I detested dresses and skirts, and wanted to just play soccer and read.
This is an open letter to the girls who were my big sisters without realizing they were my big sisters. The girls who took the time to teach me how to pose for prom pictures when I was hopelessly awkward and taught me how to do makeup before sending me off to college. It is for the girls who first introduced me to a gentler way of life and a path that I could only carve on my own. The ones who taught me to chase my dreams no matter how crazy they may sound. This is for the ones who just made sure to catch up with me every now and again to make sure I was okay. To the girls who first gave me a family at college and to the women who continue to show me undying support. I thought all I ever needed in life was my big brothers and accepted that my little sister was screwed in having a good big sister, but I was wrong.
I needed walks that led to talks and eventually friendship. I needed to hear about Glee so that I could know what it meant to some to fall in love. I needed the girly side of me unlocked so that I may feel normal once again, my place in the world secured. I needed to have people who drill me with questions because I don’t answer texts and people who give me space until they think it has been too long since we last talked. I needed shopping dates where outfits were picked out for me and applause was given when I put one together myself. I needed someone to look up to because when it came to learning the ropes of fitting in with everyone else, I was never very good at that. You taught me to walk in heels, laughed when I looked horribly awkward clumping around in them and relished in the pleasure of taking them off. You taught me how to dance, to make others come to me and how to laugh at myself a bit more.
This is for you, for the ones who taught me things my big brothers never could and for always being there for me. I never knew I needed a big sister until I had an abundance of them and I am grateful for every single one of you. Thank you!
