One of the most meaningful days of my life was the day she was born. I was no longer the only little girl in the house, the center of attention, or the youngest sibling. Those are challenging attributes to give up so willingly, but I traded those titles and became a big sister – a title that brings a lot of responsibility and so much importance. I instantly gravitated towards her, mesmerized by her soft skin, button nose, dark hair, and puffy new eyes. She quickly became the other piece of me, holding half of my heart in her little hands.

Those first few years tested my patience. I know I loved holding her, and listening to her baby coos and babbles, but I eagerly anticipated the day when she could finally keep up with my fast-paced, talkative way of playing.

Even when that day eventually came I would control so much of how we played. Hopefully, that is a general older sister characteristic and not just me. But while we played Barbies I would talk the whole time and cue the conversation between the dolls so my sister would just happily participate. But the day did come when I loosened the reigns of my control. My sister has a mind as sharp as a whip, an impeccable sense of humor, and a vividly creative imagination. Those qualities made playing those make-believe games with her some of the best moments of our childhood.

All day at school I would think about what I would do with my sister when we got home. Racing her home from school, we would throw our backpacks down and immediately go up to my room to play. We would play until our mom called us for dinner and then continue until it was time to go to bed.

We would spend hours making up dance routines, and of course, we made our families endure the mediocre dancing of two very giggly, slightly uncoordinated, and not at all classically trained dancers.

I remember the time we found old costume wigs and believed that we were unrecognizable in them. My sister was in a large wig full of dark curly hair and myself in a hot-pink bob style, with the final touches of large sunglasses and bright red lipstick. Convinced that no one in our neighborhood would be able to tell who we were whilst undercover, we walked laps around our block in our elaborate costumes.

Or the time we filled up plastic wine glasses with lemonade, and nonchalantly walked past our parents and grandparents to go sit down on the boat and talk for hours on end. Overall, we genuinely thought we were hilarious.

The only time we have ever shared a room was for about a month, but that was a short-lived experience. Our parents had to separate us so soon because we would stay up late every night talking, laughing, and filling the space between us with new ideas, dreams, and goals.

I hope I have painted the picture well enough to show that the friendship my sister and I have been able to create and maintain for the entirety of our lives is built on joy. The joy of being in each other’s presence, and the joy of the constant laughter that she brings me. The joy that she makes me feel every time I get to talk to her, and the joy of learning to embrace the true, undeniable, authentic selves that each other brings out.

But even as life became a little less joyful, imagination naturally began to dissipate, and our after-school schedules started filling up, my sister’s and my relationship was able to evolve with the changing of our lives. And with every relationship, there are highs and lows, and my sister and I have had our fair share of both. I don’t want to give a false impression of our relationship because like most siblings do, my sister and I do argue and fight. We always have, and most likely we always will. Fighting with siblings is inevitable. But the way that sisters fight and make up is so unique to any other relationship I have ever known. The two of us can go from being extremely mad at each other and bickering, to saying “Sorry” and “I love you” a few minutes later, and immediately move on like nothing ever happened. The consistency of our friendship and support for one another makes it possible to see the other side when times get tough.

Throughout our lives, and as we got older our roles as sisters evolved, too. We became the confidante and protector of each other’s secrets. The shoulder for each other to cry on when the stresses of the outside world got too overwhelming. The open arms when the other needed a minute of solitude and comfort. We became each other’s “academic advisors” proofreading essays and helping each other study for every exam. We became each other’s stylists, curling each other’s hair before school dances, and borrowing one another’s clothes, which unsurprisingly may or may not have resulted in a few disagreements over the years. We became opinionated young women as the result of always asking for each other’s judgments. The opinion of a sister holds a lot of weight and power. We became dreamers and used the imagination we once used to play make-believe to inspire the dreams we have today. She and I dream about traveling around the world together and checking off each detail on our lengthy bucket list. We dream about each other’s weddings, being aunts to each other’s kids, and someday living in the same neighborhood so that our kids can grow up with each other (more so that she and I can continue to spend as much time together as we can).

These last four years I have had the opportunity to watch my little sister become an outstanding young woman. I went to every tennis match and swim meet that I could so that I could cheer her on in those moments. I witnessed her make meaningful and honest connections with people at school and in her community and leave a positive impact on everyone she encounters. I watched her become a servant leader by giving up most of her weekends and spending countless hours volunteering for various non-profit organizations and local community events, always putting others before herself. I sat in the stands when she won homecoming queen, and though it wasn’t a surprise to me I watched her humbly accept that crown. And I watched her walk across the stage at graduation with her head held high, showing her beautiful and authentic smile, anticipating the next chapter of her life.

This month my little sister is moving out for her freshman year of college. I selfishly wish that this time would never come, and the protective older sister wants her to be shielded from the hardships, stress, and struggles that may be thrown her way while at college. Recently I heard the song “Wherever I Go” by Hannah Montana, and it immediately brought me to tears thinking about my sister leaving on this adventure of hers. The part of the song that stuck out to me was this:

So I’m moving on, letting go

Holding on to tomorrow

I’ve always got

The memories while I’m finding out who I’m gonna be

We might be apart but I hope you always know

You’ll be with me wherever I go.

Because even though we will be apart and are both on our journeys of figuring out who we are going to be, the memories we share and the amazing friendship we keep will always be with us. My sister is the best young woman I have ever had the privilege of knowing. She is kind-hearted and has a good head on her shoulders. She is everything good and the epitome of joy. She has big things ahead of her, and it is time for me to let her spread her wings and soar.

To my little sister Izzy, Happy National Sisters Day. I will forever be in awe of you and everything you do, and I will always be here for you, wherever you go.

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