White bits clung to me and my sisters’ hair as we shredded the copious amount of styrofoam from our most recent Amazon package. The material crumbled in our small hands — and before we knew it, the entire bedroom was decorated with what we liked to call “snow.” This was one of many stunts my sister and I pulled when we were younger, memories that would become my favorites to reminisce upon. Not only because of how fun they were, but because my younger sister and I were a team.
When my sister and I were younger, the 5-year age difference between us hardly seemed to matter. No matter what mischief we got up to, from performing home-made concerts to making rocket ships out of laundry baskets, we were partners in crime. These adventures quietly slipped their way into photo albums and video archives, resurfacing only occasionally as I got older.
My parents, peers and teachers would always tell me I was an excellent older sister, in part because I loved taking care of my younger sister and I’d always loved the idea of having a built-in best friend. I invented new games for her and taught her how to say basic words; I saved clothes for her and made photo albums for her to look back on, doing my best to be as involved in her growth as possible. As a result, I started to get introduced to the idea that, because I was an excellent older sister, I was an excellent role model as well. In addition to being the caring, compassionate and fun teacher-like figure, my behavior was now something to be looked up to.
Slowly, I noticed myself internalizing this idea of being a “perfect” older sister. I started seeing it in the way we spent time together, the way she followed me around and followed what I did. When we both attended the same extracurricular classes, I felt the need to excel in those activities to keep up the image of being a “role model.” I was acutely aware of the fact that I was an example, which came with added pressures of perfectionism. I felt this pressure the hardest when I got to high school and, for the first time, found myself struggling academically and socially. After each bad day I experienced in school, I felt less and less credible in giving my sister the advice that she sought. There was always a small voice in the back of my mind that asked, “Am I the right person to ask?”
As I got busier, I started isolating myself in our relationship more, neglecting to realize how much she was impacted by it and how she noticed me growing more and more reserved. But, she always noticed. One day in sophomore year, I came home from a particularly terrible day in school, overwhelmed with how much work I had to do. I immediately slammed my door and retreated to my bed, prepared to disappear like I always did after a bad day. Then, my sister wordlessly walked into my room and placed a perfectly toasted grilled cheese sandwich on my desk, and left. At that, I started to cry.
It was a simplistic action, something that my sister did for me all the time. But at that moment, I realized that my sister was doing what she did best — showing up, and paying attention. For so long, I’d constructed this idea of our relationship in my mind, convincing myself she relied on me and I was letting her down. But I realized how backwards this idea was: our relationship wasn’t a transactional, one-way street. My sister knew me better than anybody. She’s the first one to know that I’d want to eat after a bad day, the first one to know what clothes I would think are cute when she goes shopping and the first one to know what foods I’d want from the grocery store. In that moment, her simple gesture helped me see past my limited perspective, making me realize that there’s nothing wrong with relying on each other. My sister isn’t my “student” or someone that needs to be taught — she’s my best friend.
I still give her advice and “older-sister” her a little bit, but I let her “younger-sister” me too. We depend on each other, going back and forth between ideas and holding each other accountable. I work in her room when I need to focus and she comes to me when she needs help writing a professional email. Our relationship has only grown stronger as we’ve grown older, and I realize now that even though I may be her role model, she is also mine.
So, dear reader,
As MVHS students, we experience an incredible amount of pressure from our environment. There are times when we feel like nothing we do is enough. We burn ourselves out and lose sight of the people around us. But it’s important to remember that there’s nothing wrong with counting on people. Sometimes, our loved ones know us better than we know ourselves. There’s nothing wrong with asking questions when you need help with a class or relying on your friends to lift your spirits. After all, these connections make us who we are, and no matter how lonely we feel, we always have an army of people cheering us on every step of the way. Take it from me.
Sincerely,
