My sister and I are different. We have different strengths and weaknesses. We think differently. We enjoy different things. Our personalities are different. Our goals in life are different.
But we are both examples of strong women. We are both fiercely protective over who and what we love. We both experienced childhood trauma. We are both trying to heal ourselves and be better people.
And importantly, we were both pitted against each other by our family and society due to our differences.
But most importantly, we love each other, even though we don’t always see eye to eye, and our fights can be explosive!
So here’s my message. It took us a long time to even talk about this. To be honest about how our insecurities were triggered by each other. How we were both wounded by our chaotic childhood. How we can forgive ourselves for the mistakes we made because of said trauma. And forgive our parents and family but still have boundaries because we see the truth clearly.
We realised together that we were encouraged to turn against each other. How our differences became rifts between us, instead of strengths we could appreciate and draw on from each other.
The love we had, was drowned out by the noise of sibling rivalry during childhood. I yearned for my mother’s love, while my mother poured her love into my sister. My sister yearned for my father’s love, while he poured his love into me.
My sister has always been beautiful, confident and has no problem being in the spotlight. I struggled with this and still do. I respected my sister for her strengths but couldn’t show it, because she treated me like a pest, as older sisters do. I reacted out of anger and was mean back. When I found this letter I had written when I was 12 years old, at first I laughed at the precociousness of myself as a kid. Typing an official letter on my grandfather’s typewriter, addressed to my grandparents by name and almost expertly explaining my vehement rejection of sharing a room with her! I even signed it!
But then a pang of sadness hit me. I didn’t realise how mean I was. How I painted my sister as a monster. How I sounded like I hated her. And couldn’t stand to be around her. How I made it seem that she had no redeeming qualities to speak of.
The last time we spoke, my sister called me to lecture me on my skincare after she had watched a video I posted on Instagram. In the past, I would have maybe taken offense and been hurt that she didn’t lead with praise for being brave enough to share my story. But I have changed, and I can now appreciate people for who they are and not who I expect them to be. I acknowledged my trigger and moved on, to appreciate the love my sister had for me and how she showed it.
Skincare, beauty regimes, make-up, self care. That’s my sister’s strength. And she was using it to show her love for me. She wasn’t trying to insult me, but rather to show me that she wanted me to look my best, to be my best, while I put myself out there. She encouraged me to practice self care, while I give to and serve others. I booked a spa day for myself as a result.
My sister, even though different from me, can teach me self love in a way I had never felt completely comfortable to do before. I labelled her as vain early on, and rejected those aspects of being feminine. Beauty is a woman’s birthright. We have every right to love ourselves that way and share that beauty with the world. It is a gift and reflection of the beauty of the Goddess (Devi).
I in turn, give her counsel on her challenges with motherhood and have a close relationship with her daughters. I support them out of love for them and her. I don’t judge her, but offer emotional support where needed.
I encouraged her to talk to her girls about our challenges. Because, history is repeating itself in their relationship. We regret not being aware enough to see that we could have shown our love better when we were younger. And our environment and the people around us, amplified the distortions.
We both want better for her girls. They are different in almost the same way we were as kids. We hope they can now see our mistakes and make every effort to appreciate each other for their differences and recognise the triggers that come up for themselves. Our late awareness can help them be aware earlier in their lives.
Because no matter what, we share a sisterly love that may not look like it’s clean or polished, but is rooted in mutual love and respect.
I don’t need my sister to be just like me. I just need the truth and openness that we have now. And when we do butt heads, we can navigate it with kindness, and listen when an uncomfortable truth is being shared. Because that’s when we learn the most from each other. And that is true sisterhood.
I hope you can see the patterns in this story, if you have the good fortune to be blessed with a sister.
But if not, don’t be the part of the family or society that pits two women who are different against each other. Don’t be the ones enjoying the conflict between two strong women who would be even stronger if they joined forces. It is showing your fear ingrained in a society that doesn’t want women to find their power and multiply it exponentially in communion.
And that’s my take home message for all the women out there. Don’t let them!! Let us celebrate our differences and learn from each other! Stronger together 💪🏽
Addendum:
I shared this blog with my sister and she liked it. But she added that she didn’t like me when we were younger because I was cuter and prettier and people gave me more attention. What she is really saying is that she recognized my beauty but didn’t recognize her own, giving rise to jealousy.
It’s funny how we perceived the same experience so differently. It drives home the point of how comparison is the thief of joy. To the girls and women who are facing these challenges: you are beautiful, special and unique! And knowing that will help you appreciate the same in everyone else 😊
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