When I was writing my college essay, I sought out the assistance of my all-time favorite teacher. We sat down, read it over, and he asked me any questions he had. I was pretty proud of it; there was a paragraph for each thing I held dear to my heart, all spun up in a very cohesive way. Each was relevant to the person I was at that moment. However, when he finished with the paragraph I spent essentially raving about how wonderful my sister is, he asked me what is was that inspired such devotion. Did she help raise me? Did she assist me with homework when I was having a particularly hard time in school? I looked at him, a bit taken aback, and stammered out a "no." I never seemed to struggle in school, and my parents raised us both, together.

I guess what I have come to know now that I didn't understand then is that not everyone is lucky enough to have the built-in-best-friend relationship that my sister and I do. Some need a tragic reason to love the one person who shares 100 percent of their DNA. I don't need any more reason to appreciate my sister, to the point where I would dedicate and entire paragraph of an essay about myself to her, than to look back at all she has done for me these past 19 years by simply existing.

She essentially went into battle without armor. She forged her way; through high school, college, grad school, and she will continue to do so. On top of that she left a very convenient trail of breadcrumbs for me to follow and provided me with a person from whom advice can always be received. This particular type of leadership is a fate that a younger sibling never knows, and a silent burden that all older siblings carry, just by happenstance of birth order. She has been my unwavering support system whenever I'm going through something with my friends. She talked me through recruitment and passed along her tips on acclimating to Greek Life from 500 miles away. She is always the mature one and takes the higher road when I successfully behave like a large child (which I do rather frequently). She always forgives me for it, too. Last night we went to bed annoyed at each other and this morning I woke up to an excited text about my upcoming visit. She always manages to move on, even though I know she can hold a grudge that would do the Irish blood in her veins justice. And while she is always willing to impart her wisdom to me, she never infringes on my life or tries to relive hers through my slightly delayed version (except for when she comes to visit me at school because she "misses frat parties"). With every decision I make, whether I choose differently or the same as she did, she is always in my favor. With every stroke of my keyboard, I can hear her silently cheering me on. She claims it's because my writing will one day buy her a boat, but I know she wants to see me not only succeed, but do something I truly love.

So to all the older sisters out there, from us babies: thank you. Thank you for always being on our side, even when Mom and Dad were right. Thank you for then always making me see that Mom and Dad were right. Thank you for understanding that my Big will never replace you, as much as she might fill in for the bits that your being in a distant city makes hard. Thanks for being my chauffeur in middle school (I promise to repay you by being your DD now and forever). Thank you for being the Iron Man to my Tony, the Salt to my Pepper, my backseat companion until this very day, and the best partner in crime I could have asked for. I could not imagine growing up in the wake of any other creature.