My childhood was, by most standards, privileged. I wanted for nothing much materially. I grew up in a large family that gathered often. My home was party central for occasions celebratory, religious and impromptu. I liked the parties, despite the fact that I usually found myself on the fringe.
I was not just a loner, I was desperately lonely.
I was the only girl, the afterthought. My three older brothers ranged from 9 to 15 years older than me. The general belief was that I was a spoiled princess, as the long awaited daughter. This was an unfair assumption. More often I was ignored. More than occasionally I was made aware of the inconvenience of my existence. This is when I would go disappear into a book, doing my best to escape and escape notice.
My much older male siblings and parents regularly waxed nostalgic about family adventures that occurred almost a decade before I existed. My own family was like a club that I could never belong to at worst, at best it was the second marriage – the “other family” that the original siblings resent.
Some things are nobody’s fault really. They just are. Like the pollen count and whether it rains on your birthday. You just deal with it accordingly. My family is filled with well meaning people. I ‘m not forgetting this.
I was clever and precocious and held my own in adult conversations, and made the most of my world, like so many only children. But I still was the only one who had to go to bed before the party was over. I wasn’t allowed in the back room where the teenagers, college students, etc strummed guitars and made out with their girlfriends. For the best. When I was left alone with them I saw and learned things that I shouldn’t have.
How I longed for a sister. An older sister who would take me under her wing and make my brothers treat me better. A younger sister who would let me dress her up and play “Little House on the Prairie” on my canopy bed/covered wagon with me, in matching bonnets. A twin, who I’d probably loathe as much as I loathed myself at times, but at least she’d be my age and into the same stuff as me.
I tried to scratch my sister-itch with female friends. But my best friends were always already sisters themselves. They would confide in me, how much they hated their sisters and how frustrating they were. How awful. But they would abandon me in an instant for these dreadful sisters of theirs, pouring salt in the wound of my loneliness.
Each time a house went on sale in the neighborhood, I watched for a sign of a girl my age*. An only child, preferably. She never moved in.
So I grew up awkward in the ways of female friendship and I took my show on the road to a mostly male college. Things never really changed for me. I had female friends, as always (and still) but not the kind you would call a “sister”. For a brief period I hoped to marry into sisterhood. I crossed my fingers, wishing for a sister-in-law who would be just like a sister. Someone I could email and talk on the phone to. Someone to give me parenting advice and save baby clothes for my kid. I’d seen these things happen.
My brothers, all three of them, married women who came from families of several sisters. It’s a little comical, this common thread amongst the women they chose. All sisters, practically no brothers. My brother’s wives had no need of my friendship, let alone my sisterhood. They are lovely people, but we have little in common other than my relationship with my brothers. This relationship was never particularly close to begin with, and sadly hasn’t changed much with time, age and distance.
My husband’s sister is a nice person too, but she lives on the opposite coast and may as well live in another world as a childless professional.
I often question what I could have done, what I should be doing. How can I be a better friend and perhaps nurture my female friendships more? Surely there is something. This wages war with my feeling of inadequacy in general. It bleeds into self doubts as a parent, a daughter and a professional.
This is the sort of thing I’d talk about with a sister. If I had one.
Few topics bring tears to my eyes faster than this one. I’ve lived through half my life feeling something is lacking and my own deepest fears are that what is lacking, may be lacking in me. Some flaw in my character. Or perhaps my lonerhood is so deeply embedded and tattooed on my flesh so as to be off putting in some way. Is it indelible? Genetic?
For me, weddings, showers, births and crisis have all been tinged with a sting. The sting of something missing. I’m fortunate to have a wonderful mother but she is not a substitute for a sister or a friend who feels like one. A sister to help me shop for my wedding dress and lie about how skinny I looked. A sister to show up for a week and freeze casseroles when I had my second child. A sister to take me for a drink and tell me to hang on and keep the faith when my mammogram came back funky.
I would have loved a sister at all of those moments and many more. With or without the matching bonnets.
If there is any balm to soothe me, it’s the bittersweet perspective I have as I watch my own daughters navigate their relationships with others and each other. They fight, they claw at each other emotionally and physically. They complain to their best friends about each other for certain.
There is no doubt in my mind however, that they would forsake a friend for each other in an instant. I take so much comfort in the hope that they will always be there for each other in ways I only wish I’d had a sister there for me. It helps to heal the stilll-hurt part of my heart.
Watching them makes me feel better in a weird way. In that regard they are not only my daughters, they are my sisters too.
* I still feel that silly surge of girlish hope when a house goes on sale in my neighborhood. Maybe my “sister” will move in!
Carolyn West says
OMG I feel exactly the way you do. I grew up the oldest of three, the only girl. It was incredibly lonely as I didn’t really have a close relationship with my mother. Most of my cousins were boys and not very nice ones at that. I had friends, but nobody who I was close enough to call a “sister”. I never had a really close relationship with another girl until college when I met my best friend. But today… she lives on the east coast, I’m on the west. How funny that I ended up with three daughters. I love that they have each other although they don’t appreciate that fact at all. I think I try to be extra close to them because I still always wanted that sister bond I never had. I feel like I am finally getting the family of sisters that I always wanted.
Nicole Standley says
I will be your sister. If you are taking applications, send one my way.
Stacie Haight Connerty says
It is strange but growing up (and having a sister), I always wished for a brother instead. Now I wouldn’t change it for anything, of course.
You have sisters now whether they are other bloggers or readers. While it is not the same, hopefully there is some small measure of comfort in it.
Now…I’m gonna need your address to send a long overdue casserole.
Kelly says
as always – beautiful! i feel your “pain.” although i do have a sister, she’s 11 years younger than me. when i was growing up we weren’t close at all. now that we’re “old” it’s been fun to develop a friendship with her!
jasmineforte13 says
Ciaran you totally got me all teary eyed with this one! I have 2 boys and my only daughter is smack dab in the middle of them. I often feel selfish for having a tubal ligation and not trying for one more girl. I may have to adopt because I do see that she desperately needs a sister. Thanks for sharing this.
Catalina says
Your post had me in tears b/c I would be empty if I lost my sister. I love that you have daughters.
OCMomActivities - Katie says
Oh man. That hit home for me because I too was the after-thought. The long awaited little girl. The only child of “this” marriage. The youngest by over a decade, I’ve always felt left out of the club.
Hugs!
Roxanne says
I have three sisters…but it’s not all that you mention…childhood issues of jealousy, one-up-manship & rivalry come up to cloud the moments. Add different politics, different styles of coping, different places in life financially…it’s difficult to pour your fears or heart out to someone who isn’t emotional, to bond with someone who doesn’t share your point of view on issues that matter to you…for your family, your country, your future. Maybe it’s only my family that is this way. We’ve gone thru cancer, divorce, children with issues, adoption, career issues, moves and it’s never been an easy love fest . I remember finally moving back to my family after 20+ years living away and one of my sisters actually said, “Just because you’re here now doesn’t mean our lives are going to change, especially where the holidays are concerned…we’re not going to stop doing all the holidays the way we’ve always done them… we do these with other family members at the other family’s home. Just because you’re here doesn’t mean we should drop them or include you .” I didn’t mention anything about ruining their holidays at all. Having a sister doesn’t mean anything super-special in my family. I hope it’s just my family and your daughters will have a lifelong, close bond.
Holly Rosen Fink says
I’m with you, Roxanne, I grew up one of three sisters and the jealousy still rages through our adulthood. We are like night and day, so very different to each other. But at the end of the day, they are the first people I call about everything. I look at my daughter and wish I could give her a sister, she has just one brother. I pray that they will be as close as I am to my sisters when they grow up. Thank you for writing this beautiful post.
Aliza says
Oh, Ciaran, this makes my heart hurt for you. My sister and I are adopting you. It is official. Lemme know when you have your next mammogram. I will fly to CA and come with you. And I’m not even kidding.
Shannoncolleary says
Hi Ciaran — family. What a conundrum. So much baggage. And everyone has their own experience, point of view about what was an what wasn’t. I grew up sharing a bedroom with my stepsister who is a year younger than me. I moved into her life when she was 8 & I was 9, my mom being unable to take care of me anymore. I always blamed her for not being kind to me during that traumatic time in my life. It wasn’t until years later when my dad (who legally adopted my sister as his own because her birth father wouldn’t acknowledge her) told me about her running away from home shortly after I moved in. It was dark and she was only 8 and they couldn’t find her. My father, in his business suit, scavenged the neighborhood in his car until he found her hovering on the edge of an orange grove. Their eyes met simultaneously and she took off running into the orchard. My dad barely got the car in park, never got the car keys or even turned off the ignition because he was chasing after my sister in that orange grove, trying not to lose sight of her as she dodged between the trees. He was finally able to tackle her and hold her. She was worried he wouldn’t want her anymore because his “real” daughter had moved in.
My suggestion, look at your story and find your part in it. Where do you have control and where don’t you. What can you do to heal the disappointments of childhood, where are the ones you can let go? There are women out there who will love you like a sister. I’ve finally come to love my sister, and she me for the first time in our lives 44 years after we became sisters. xo S
Pattie Cordova says
I grew up sister less and I am so happy that it turned out that way. I can’t deal with the jealousy and wouldn’t want to deal with. I have two sons now and I look forward to seeing how their friendship develops. I hope that it’s one that they can have for the rest of their lives.
Desiree Eaglin says
I can completely relate, I’ve longed for a sister type relationship as well with several friends throughout the years only be disappointed. I think sister relationships are so special, there’s something really magical about the emotional support woman relationships can provide. I hope that you find that sister type some day…and I hope I do too.
Liz says
I’ve wondered if I’m the odd one out in that I’ve never longed for a sister. I have two younger brothers (but we’re all close enough in age) and we had a great childhood. I identified with a lot of the boy stuff in life but I wasn’t a tomboy. It gave me balance. But I’ve always felt more at ease around males than females; in fact, aside from a few very close girl friends over the years, I have a pretty hard time relating to women in a 100% comfortable way.
Is it because I didn’t have a sister? Who knows.