To my sister

[Beijaflor57]

It's a shame, really.

We could have been the best of friends. We could have had a normal sisterly relationship.

For the first several years of our lives, we did. I remember how, when you were really little, you used to cling to me. I remember you sucking your thumb, holding your little blankie, and following me everywhere like a little shadow. It was like you looked up to me as a maternal figure, even though I was only two years older than you.

And I loved you then. We played together, we did girly things together, like playing paper dolls, and playing house. You were my first sister. You were my only sister for many years...and we still did our girly things while also being tomboys with our brothers. Like playing cowboys and Indians in the woods, playing with Matchbox cars, playing in the creek, and climbing trees. We had the best of both worlds.

But then things began to change. The fighting started as we got older. You outgrew me. You grew bigger and stronger than me. And your domineering, forceful personality began to emerge. We developed a love/hate relationship. Our fights were frequently physical. Hair-pulling, shoving, hitting, etc. You had to have your own way.

As you and I got older, my trajectory tumbled downward, while yours shot upward. You were everything I wasn't: beautiful, charming, outgoing, bubbly, and popular. Everyone adored you. It wasn't hard to see why. Everyone gravitated toward you.

You were the one with all the friends. You were our oldest brother's 'favorite sister.' You became our mother's favorite as well. And you quickly learned how to manipulate her. You learned how to manipulate nearly everyone. First, you'd use your charm. If that didn't work, you'd stomp your feet and throw a tantrum if you didn't get your way. Give people the silent treatment. I remember you employing this tactic quite frequently with our oldest brother if he ever said anything, or did anything, you didn't like. Even though it was obvious you two were thick as thieves.

Meanwhile, my life fell down a deep, dark hole. With you as a sister, I became, essentially, invisible. I was the shy one, the introvert, the quiet one. I wasn't pretty like you. I also had a painful childhood disease that deformed many of my joints and made me awkward, clumsy, and weaker than most kids my age. I started wearing clunky glasses at a young age that got me called names like 'frog-eyes' and 'four-eyes.' I was nerdy. I didn't have friends once I got past the age of seven. No one wanted to be friends with me. Especially when I developed other severe health issues and became, in addition to all my other unlovely traits, the 'smelly girl.' I became essentially invisible to our mother. She didn't seem to see or care about any of my problems. Instead, she shamed me for them. And spoiled you. You were her golden girl.

Sadly, this went to your head. All the attention, all the love, all the praise. While I sunk further and further in your shadow. It wasn't enough for you to be popular and well-loved, though...no, you had to bully me as well. To make sure I knew my place and how disgusting I was. You also had to say nasty things about me to your friends. And then they bullied me too.

I confess, I started to hate you. And I hated you for a long time. I hated our mother too, because of how she obviously favored you.

But I finally grew up. And, once free from your shadow, and with some independence, I finally began to heal and grow in confidence. The ugly duckling, outcast girl shed her past and came into her own. I made friends. I began to be called beautiful by men. I dated. Had a serious boyfriend. Traveled. Pursued different careers. Lived abroad. Life started to look up for me. And I forgave you. I forgave our mother as well. I chalked up your cruel behavior to childishness.

Sadly, I was wrong. You never truly grew up. You just learned how to be more covert in your bullying and manipulations. To put on a 'good, Christian woman' façade to everyone. While, behind my back, in recent years, you've turned many of our siblings against me. Including my beloved youngest sister, who, unlike you, I used to have a wonderful, close relationship with.

All because even now, as we navigate our 40s, you feel entitled to all the love, attention, and praise in our family. And you couldn't stand the fact that I was starting to get more attention and praise in our family. Not because I sought it out, but because I was simply living my life and pursuing my goals and dreams. Just trying to do something worthwhile with my life.

There's a part of me that feels sorry for you. Feels sorry that you're so desperately insecure, beneath that façade of charm, bravado, and confidence you wear. I get the insecurity thing. I have my own insecurities. But no matter how insecure I feel, I would never treat someone the way you've treated me.

It's too bad. It really is. That you, a still-beautiful woman, who, outwardly, has everything you could want and desire—good job, house, nice vehicles, motorcycle, lots of friends—which is more than what I currently have—and, yet, that isn't enough. You feel entitled to have what I have as well. You have to be the 'queen bee.'

I still forgive you. But I'm moving on. Far away from your drama and abusive behavior.

Maybe one day you'll wake up and realize what you lost. But I'm not counting on it...

[Papa Coco]

Beijaflor,

What a beautifully written letter.

[Little2Nothing]

I'm sure that was difficult to write and share. Expressing pain seems to always rob it of its power. 

Your bravery has made me want to write to my NM l. Thank you for sharing your letter.