Whenever I tell people that I have two younger sisters, their first response is typically “don’t you wish that you had a brother?” I would be lying if I said I never entertained the idea, and that’s because I really have no idea what having a brother would be like. But truthfully I would say no every single time; I couldn’t imagine life any other way than it is now, because I can say with full sincerity that my sisters aren’t just my sisters, they’re my best friends.
Like any other siblings, we’ve had our fights. They were definitely a lot more dramatic, not to mention physical, when we were younger, back when whose stuffed animal was whose meant the outbreak of World War III and it really mattered who got to be “Mom” when playing house.
Yet even in those darkest of times, our bond was unbreakable. We did everything together, went everywhere together, we even wore the same outfits. Being separated from them was something I just couldn’t fathom. I remember dreading summer camp because I was just a little too old to be in the same group as them. For my ten-year-old self, it was the worst thing I could possibly imagine.
Flash forward many years later and everything has changed, but at the same time nothing has. Separation isn’t the end of the world, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t still hard. I am never more comfortable, never more myself than I am when I’m at home, and in large part that is because of my sisters.
They’re some of the only people I know who will never pass judgments, who will always be there for me, even when sometimes I just want to be alone. There silent presence is enough. At the same time I know I can trust them to be honest, because it’s hard to be offended by the words of someone you know cares about you.
I can’t say it doesn’t still hurt every time I come back to school, but in many ways it feels like I’m not even gone in the first place. We still talk every day, so often in fact that there never really is anything to catch up on. I might be miles away, but it’s as though I’m still right there with them every moment of the day.
We still have our disputes, albeit there is less throwing of T.V. remotes and slamming doors in faces, but what close relationship doesn’t? I may be the oldest, but I’ve learned so much from both of them, and I like to hope that they’ve learned from me too.
I love all of our stupid, nonsensical inside jokes (of which there are many), I love our collectively bizarre imagination, and I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world. There may be a few people who have come and gone in my life, but the two of them have always been there. Not because they’re my sisters, but because they’re also my best friends.
