Most families chalk up dominance behavior between siblings as simple rivalry. They say "Well, when I was your age my sister and I never got along — but now, we are friends." or "Boys will be boys!" These kinds of statements can undermine a potential critical issue. The statements themselves aren't harmful, because surely when they are said it is to make the behavior easier to manage. However, when parents look the other way to violent and aggressive sibling relationships, they risk severely crippling either sibling by allowing the behavior to escalate. The worst part about familial abuse is that it is hard to escape it because it’s happening in your own home.

I have a sister. Most people don't know that about me because I never talk about her. We never call or meet up for coffee. We don’t text about the latest movies or talk about the boys from our high school. Buying Christmas presents for her at this point seems forced. I don't recall the last time she told me she loved me, and I can't remember ever truly feeling it. I think we had an OK relationship up until my older sister hit double digits, and I was around 7. Perhaps the violence was set off then because that’s when we knew our father was never coming back. He hurt her, so in turn, she hurt me. It started innocent enough, but soon a deep and inescapable pattern of abuse began. At the time, I’m not sure if either of us really knew how deeply we were cut.

I, being the younger sibling of three years, desperately wanted to be like my older sister; this incurred her wrath. Instead of the usual annoyance you'd expect from older to younger sister, it developed into a venomous cycle of contempt.

She didn’t want to be seen with me in public. She told me everyone thought of me the way she did. I recall gallons of milk being spilled over my head, my clothes cut up, nail marks gauged into my arms and face. I recall hiding in the bathroom stall at the pool, too afraid to swim while her friends were there in case I’d be the subject of bullying and mirth.

What I recall most of all is the feelings. Fat, vain, stupid, fat, incompetent, annoying, fat, pathetic, hate, hate, hate. My reaction to all of this was that her hating me was my fault, and what she was saying was true. I took that as an invitation to try harder to earn her love. It never worked.

The loneliness and rejection I felt growing up set a precedence for my relationship-building habits in the future. Everything I said or did was a joke, open to cruel judgment by her and her friends. They'd find my creative writing stories and read them aloud, mocking and guffawing. Before I knew it, I was imitating my sister's behavior in school. I wound up ostracizing myself, fulfilling my fears of rejection. When I came home, I would feel even more unsafe than I did at school. This constant tension is seen in my behavior today.

I like to think of it like all the building blocks that made me up were tangled up, resulting in manipulative and maladaptive behaviors that even now, I struggle with. Almost like as my personality was being created, it was also mutating with every cruel lesson. It wasn't for years after she had moved out that I realized the true extent of those years of emotional torture, and what we could have been.

My sister was sick. At first, it started with migraines. I developed an eating disorder at the age of 10, and my sister followed soon after. It was almost some kind of sick competition. My sister developed depression and social problems — soon she dropped out of school and attempted suicide... Needless to say, things were not pleasant in my household. We grew jealous of each other's ailments, each vying for the attention of my overburdened mother.

My sister was fighting for her life, and in that carnage, I was a casualty. I can empathize with misplaced anger because of personal suffering, but it does not excuse her behavior. At 15, my sister moved out to live with her boyfriend at the time, effectively abandoning me and my mother, who were still reeling from the turmoil. Now? She’s 23, and I’m 21. We have never talked through this trauma, and although she claims that it was regular sibling rivalry, my reality of abuse is real, and it is valid.

So is yours.

If you've ever spent any time with me, you'd know I'm quite sensitive and reactive — to a fault. I seek attention and validation in excessive, grandiose ways. I’m not only a fiction writer but also an actress. I suffer from situational anxiety and a subconscious desire to always be accepted and praised. I’m like a wind-up toy, and any trigger can send me falling. Especially things that remind me of my sister.

I fall in and out of depressions and panic episodes like the turn of the tide. I take any rejections in female friendships very personally, as if I was trying to recreate the sisterhood I wished I had. I have a long way to go before I can find peace with our childhood. I'd do anything to give my past self the ability to understand what was happening to her, and the power to communicate our problems in a healthier way. I’m grateful that my disposition allows me to act, teach, and write at a high level, but it is also problematic to not only myself but to others.

What I hope that you, as a reader, get from my story is that sibling abuse is real, no matter how hard your abuser denies it. The effects are long-lasting and traumatic. They can manifest into personality disorders abd life-long problems. A recent study from the UK concluded that "overall, the researchers found that children who ever reported being bullied by their siblings were about twice as likely to have depression or anxiety, or to have harmed themselves, at age 18."

I certainly could have had it worse. Sexual abuse of a child occurs more often at the hands of another child than an adult. It is estimated that 3 in 100 children are dangerously violent to their siblings. There is hope. There is hope for my sister and me to repair our relationship, and there is hope that as a parent or sibling, you can prevent the abuse before it escalates.

What dictates dangerous sibling behavior?

1. Imbalance of power.

2. Cruel acts (meant to hurt).

3. Refusal to apologize, or admit fault.

4. Physical/sexual violence of any kind.

5. Gang behavior (friends or other siblings against one).

6. Destruction of valued possessions or ideas.

7. Isolation or overdependence.

What kind of behavior is normal?

1. Jealously.

2. Anger over territory.

3. Miscommunication/misunderstanding that leads to an argument.

4. A desire to be apart or alone for periods of time.

5. Criticism (meant to help).

6. Differing opinions or preferences, casual dissent.

How to spot abuse:

1. Hypersensitivity or flat affect in either child.

2. Dependence or avoidance on the abuser/abused.

3. A clear victim and attacker, stagnant roles.

4. Constant unease, malice, or upset atmosphere.

5. Lack of empathy or compassion in regular interpersonal conversation.

6. Refusal to change or adapt behavior.