I LOVE having brothers. Like, LOVE IT.
Besides one time, when I prayed that Neil would turn into a girl inside my mom’s womb when I was 6, I NEVER wished for a sister. I seriously enjoyed everything about having brothers. And I still do. They are really the best kinds of humans in the world.
It wasn’t until I got older that I started to wish for a sister.
More specifically, when all of my friends were getting married and using their sister’s as their maids of honor.
Besides grieving my dreams of doing a MOH speech at a wedding reception (in rap poetry form, duh), I was jealous of the bond I began to notice between lady siblings.
And then, when these ladies started having babies… I would see the incredibly natural connection deepen as they shared baby showers and witnessed deliveries.
Life together is so normal to them. It’s like their heartstrings are attached or something.
Do you know what is crazy?? Sisters STILL do sleepovers. Which is AMAZING. It’s like a piece of your childhood is built in to continue for the rest of your life?!?!? Incredible.
If I asked Colin and Sean and Neil to be my maid of honor or throw me a shower or sleep over, they would NEVER…
Actually, now that I think about it…they would TOTALLY do all of those things. I should now also mention that I have very unique brothers. They would beat someone up for me, but also join me in a harmonized rendition of Man In The Mirror and talk until 1am about EVERYTHING. Either way, those aren’t good examples.
Being in the delivery room! That would be where we would draw the line. So, there. NOT sisters.
I felt bad for a bit. I did. I was jealous. And I tried to unite with all of my girl friends who also had zero sisters. But, we didn’t know what to do with eachother. Play with hair? ummmmmmmm…. Am I supposed to snuggle with you during a sad movie? errrrr…. Can I change my shirt in front of you? aaaaaaaahhhh…. Its. Just. So. Foreign.
But, then I hit my late 20’s.
And life happened. Like REALLY started to happen. And it was all around me. Friends were struggling in their jobs. Their marriages. Their parents got cancer. They lost their jobs. Their kids got sick. They couldn’t get pregnant. They couldn’t stay pregnant.
And our friendships got REAL. Not to say they weren’t before. AT ALL.
But, I started to feel something with them. My heartstrings started to intertwine with theirs. I could literally FEEL their pain. And they could FEEL mine.
And talking about what mattered became so easy. It was like, “I really hope Brad and Jen can work it out.” Followed by “Hey tough girl, tell me what is really going on.”
Conversations about the big things became easy. Second nature. We could spend a LOT of time making fun of ourselves and talking about pedicures and People magazine but we could also in the SAME conversation cry about what is happening with our family, feel challenged to be a better person, admit something that we aren’t proud of and feel safe.
It is one of the things I treasure the most about getting older.
I have sisters. Real sisters. Women who know me. And I know them. And we are in it together. For life.
So to Amy. And Andrea. And Ashley. And Calley. And Emily. And Jessica. And Jules. And Kelly. And Leah. And Lindsay. And Tenille. And Theresa.
Thank you for being the sisters that I never had but always wanted… Though I may never be able to comfortably snuggle nor am I emotionally prepared for you to tell me to “take those ill fitting jeans off now!” (thank you to my lil sis, Lauren, for working on this one with me)…
I am, on a daily basis, grateful for each of you. For what each one of you has uniquely brought to my life. I feel like I have struck gold and expanded my family all at once.
I would not be who I am without your support, your honesty, your humor…
Oh, and Oprah! But, she already knows that about us… we were just chatting about balancing her time between Stedman and Gayle last night. I gave it to her straight and it was just what she needed.