Ahhh…how to describe the girl who likely knows me better than anyone? She is someone who not only heard of my many faux pas', but also was likely a firsthand eyewitness to my mistakes. She who was there to laugh with me during the days of waiting for adult teeth to grow in, to dissect the trauma of my first unrequited crush with, to analyze the blush of first love with, and to cry with when I discovered our father had passed away in his hospital bed. I am of course talking about my sister.
Let's call her “J” for now. J is young. J is only in early twenties and this is a fact that she never lets me forget! Whether it's by remarking upon the emerging crow's feet around my eyes or just commenting upon my overall “older” appearance, J relentlessly reminds me of the fact that she is more youthful. J is also more fashionable. I was a self-confessed tom-boy in my early years, while she used to take pride in the fact that she found her bosom buddy in the main character of the book Confessions of a Shop-a-holic. She teases me for lack of fashion, taking pains to note the ugliness of my comfortable Clark shoes and the raggedy appearance of my handbag. Not surprisingly, sometimes I am very annoyed by J and take pains to avoid any unnecessary contact with her. Her blunt personality and caustic comments sometimes hurts. (Especially when they are made in front of a new boyfriend I am still trying to impress!) Indeed, sometimes I have cause to reflect that with siblings such as J, no one is in need of an enemy.
What is somewhat astonishing then is the fact that I actually love J very much. I am proud of where she is at in life and of her independence. After two years of college, she is making more per annum than I am, although I have six more years of education! I admire her fashionable flair and her ease at diving into social situations in contrast to my wall-flower personality. Her bluntness means that I have never had to second guess her intentions or emotions. She has a genuineness that in some ways is very refreshing - usually in they way of it being pointed in a direction away from myself. For example, she has the uncanny knack of predicting which boyfriend of mine is a lemon in guise of a sweet orange. And she's not afraid to shout it! At the time I may not want to hear it, but post-breakup I'm happy to consider the option that he was never good enough anyway.
J can also be considerate and generous when she chooses to be. She taught me how to wear make-up when I was 23 and she 18. She taught me how to use a curling iron and then donated her expensive ceramic Bliss straightener to my vanity table. Nearly a 1/3 of my closet, for instance, are all next-to-new cast-offs from her closet. When my cheating lemon of an ex broke my heart, she opened the doors to her fabulously decorated house to welcome me with a steak dinner and emotional support. (No one can denigrate someone else so thoroughly as my sister!) Recently, she opened those doors again when my new boyfriend and I needed a place to stay for the weekend.
J and I have been sisters since the day she arrived home as a tiny squirming bundle from the hospital. We've seen each other at our lowest lows and highest highs. I could never have guessed that J would grow up into the person she is today: my worst enemy sometimes, my best friend at others, but always my sister. And for that, I'm glad the stork made that fateful visit 21 years and 4 months ago - that's right, count them: I'm only 4 years and 8 months older thank you!
