It’s that time of year again folks (no I’m not talking about bringing out the NSYNC Christmas CD. That happened a month ago of course), it’s the time of year when we make our lists and check them twice. We write lists of presents, lists of resolutions; lists of what we’re thankful for and what we’ll return. We ask ourselves what matters and who we want to be. We hope Santa will forgive our bad behaviors and grant our wildest wishes. We think hard about what we want in our lives and the things we want for others. So when Cinderslut sent us the “what would you change about your life right now” question this month, I was simply brimming with ideas. But as you read I couldn’t choose just one, mostly because I wasn’t sure I would really be happier with the change I asked for.
The thing is, that isn’t true. Well, it isn’t the whole truth anyway. There is one thing I’ve always wanted to change about my life; one thing I’ve asked Santa for and never got; one thing I miss more than anything. I will always want an older sister.
A few years after my brother was born I begged my parents for a younger sister. I could dress her up and teach her to play monopoly, or we could create our own concoctions in our Easy Bake Oven! Oh what fun we would have! When I found out my dad had tied his tubes, I cried (They hadn’t even consulted me!). And just like that my dream was gone. Don’t get me wrong, my brother is the best of the best, but there is something about a sister that just isn’t the same.
![My Sister%27s Voice 3[1]](http://twentysomethingcondition.files.wordpress.com/2012/12/my-sister27s-voice-31.jpg)
The most obvious thing I can’t do with my brother is share clothing, though admittedly I have stolen a shirt or two from his collection. I’ve worked hard to be someone he trusts talking about his relationships, but it gets tricky when we realize how unfair we are being to the other side; he can’t stand that I’ve done the same thing to guys that other girls have done to him. We share millions of memories, but many of them only briefly intersect, since I was sitting at the girls table and he was hanging with the boys. Both he and I have always relished our space, but in my latest state of 20-something turmoil I’ve needed a bit more attention than his newly-20 state of independence is like to provide. I love him and he is someone I’ll always be able to stay up all night talking to, but because he’s my little brother he and I can never be each other’s best friend. No matter how close we get, he’ll never quite fill that void.
As for girls, I grew up with a lot of them. My parents’ friends have daughters just a few years older than me who have become almost like sisters over the years. I have friends from elementary school that I still pick up from the airport and Skype with on weekends. Just a few days ago one of my friends from middle school told me I’ll be her maid of honor at her wedding next year and I even have a few friends from college (namely the Naughty Princesses) who I can tell anything to.
I have no shortage of girls who have been and continue to be like sisters in my life. But maybe that makes it even harder, because they all come so close. These girls understand some of where I come from, they understand how I grew up or why I’m scared of inaction. We can talk about boys or talk about politics; we can talk every day or only once every few months-it doesn’t matter, we always stay close no matter the distance. But none of them know all of me. No one has been by my side through all of it. I can’t yell at them like I can my brother. I don’t look at them and see myself. I never miss them like they’re part of me. A sister is that person who challenges me, who I’m not afraid to push back. How differently would I see myself if I had someone that similar by my side?
A few years ago I found out my mother had a late miscarriage right before she had me; a girl. Since then my older sister has become my unspoken daydream. I’ve imagined what she’d look like and what she’d think of my choices. I’ve thought about how proud she’d make me and how I’d get to be the cool aunt to her kids. Believing in her makes me feel young and protected; like she’s somewhere out there paving the way for me, like all I have to do is write her a letter and she’ll understand. She always knows the right thing to do, and has more fun than anyone I know. Sometimes I even bring her up with my brother, just to make her feel more real.
I know there are sisters out there who don’t get along and have little in common, but when I think about my sister I know our differences would only bring us closer. If some people have a hole in their heart where their first love is, then I have a space for her. She would have been my best friend and I think that the lack of her is the reason I do a lot of the things I do. I don’t think I’ll ever meet someone who’ll replace my sister, but sometimes around the holidays I wish I could.
Maybe the fact that none of us naughty princesses have sisters (at least ones at all close to our age) is part of why we bonded so well: trying to fill a void.
Yeah,I was actually thinking the same thing: none of us really grew up with sisters. It’s kind of strange. But I feel for you Sleeping Booty– I always wanted my parents to have more kids too. Although, I do retrospectively also realize that I got a heck of a lot of love and individual attention from both of my parents in part because I was the only child. I also think that I have a particularly close relationship with my mother which would be significantly altered if I had had other siblings. So, I guess I am saying, I can see the benefits of both situations (although, of course, you had a brother so you were never an ‘only’).