My sister ran away at sixteen. I had been so excited for her to live with us and was beaming from the inside out watching her move her things into her new room. She was ten years older than me, and perfection in my eyes. She was beautiful. She had wit. She read interesting books. She listened to the coolest music. She had popular friends. Everything for her seemed so effortless.
At six years old I wanted to be just like her, following her everywhere, mimicking her. She taught me how to write my name. She taught me karate moves. She taught me how to make wishes on eyelashes. She had always wanted a sister. That's why I didn't understand waking up one morning and finding she was not in her room. She had run away back to her mother's house, sneaking away in the night without a goodbye. I could only imagine how miserable she was living with my dad, but I didn't understand it at the time. I wanted to know what I did wrong. I wanted to know why we couldn't be a family.
A year later we had scarcely seen each other, and I asked that burning question as we walked around the pond at the park. "Don't you want to be real sisters?" Her green eyes cast down to the ground as she diverted the question with, "We are real sisters." She knew what I meant. Even at seven years-old, I was tired of the bullshit and lies. Her silence pushed me forward. "Why did you run away?" Her eyes met mine, a window to pain and sadness as she concealed her grief with a smile.
That day marked the end of an era for me. I could never love someone that much again. I couldn't let anyone in that didn't need me just as much as I needed them. I've lied to myself about that many times, but somehow just saying you don't need anyone makes you feel better. She had left me to pick up the pieces of my household, of my father's broken heart.
These patterns would follow for years to come. I fell in love with beautifully broken people that opened their hearts to me. As soon as they got too close, or I felt my fragile trust breaking, I'd fall off the face of the earth never to be seen again.
Seventeen years later, I'm sitting in meditation, being told to confront this wall I've put up against the world. The wall that keeps me from feeling. The wall that keeps me from knowing and giving love. I had remembered each little brick that was mounted along the way, but had never dared to venture back to the beginning. Suddenly the meaning, and the origin, all made sense.
That's when I realized that I was just as guilty.
Everything she'd done, I'd done seven times over. I would shut people out. I would make excuses. I would plan a grand escape. This wall and I have comfortable history. The only thing chipping it away is the fear that I will be just like her.
Photo credit Octavian Rosca
Amazing post
what a beautiful writing :)
Thank you <3 that means so much
This is so, so, so beautiful. Sad, but beautiful still. (Of course, I think it had something to do with your writing, but still... ❤️️) I have a big sister, you see, who's fifteen years my senior, and I looked up to her as a little kid. 💕 She didn't run away, but I feel like every little sister would feel for this.
They are like gods in our eyes haha. It took me a while to get to the root of why I felt like this but that was really where it began. I think she'd be surprised that I would understand if she told me, but has never been open with me about it.
Thank you for being so raw and vulnerable. Self-awareness is the first step in becoming the better versions of ourselves. I encourage you to keep looking within and allowing yourself to grow to new heights. Love is always worth it, and you must first love and trust yourself. Keep sharing!
Thank you! I've discovered a lot over the past few months, hopefully only up from here
So glad I fell upon this randomly. I connect so well and is so similar to my own life. breaking down walls. Ready to start letting authentic connection in and being fully myself. Such a process.
Well written 👍🙏
Many have them in some form or another, and with different levels of significance. It is a process! Thanks for the feedback.
It can be sad, how the patterns that we experience in childhood follow us through the rest of our lives.
Was this your full sister or half sister? I have two siblings that my mother had with different men and we've never been as close as I'd like.
She was my half sister from my dad's first marriage. We were close when we were younger and she did really go out of her way to have a relationship with me at that point. I imagine her and my dad had some conflict, which I would understand if she could just be honest with me about it. I'm no longer living there, yet I've only seen my nieces twice. She gave me a hug last time and said, "Let's not make it another four years." I've reached out a couple times but nothing came of it. It's now been six years since I've seen them and they only live an hour away. It goes back to the "I don't need anyone in my life that doesn't need me" thing. As much as I'd love to see my nieces, I've had a life's worth of heartbreak over this and just can't deal with putting myself out there anymore.
I guess sometimes it's just easier to let these things go. Our real families are the ones we choose, and there's no point in trying to force a distant connection when there could be people closer to us who need our love.
I'm sorry you don't get to see your nieces, though.
It is what it is and I'm accepting that :) that's right, the people that matter are the ones that choose to be present.
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