You may not think that I am my family’s pariah, but I am.
I’m that one sibling you usually don’t bring up in conversation. I’m the one to be hidden away from view. Or in my case, hidden away in another country altogether. And even that, in the social media age, isn’t far enough, it seems.
Some days, it is hard to not think about the pieces of broken sibling relationship on my hands. Some days, I blame myself. Others, I blame them.
Some days, I wish there’s a Get Along shirt that would fit 3 adults across 2 continents, so we could work it all out. I want to just call them up to ask why we seem to have lost each other, but then I’d remember that I already know the reason. I see her in the mirror every day.
Some days, I want to just give up trying to reconnect altogether. I keep talking myself into abandoning any effort to salvage whatever we still have left. It’s too late to save this Humpty Dumpty of a family tie, I’d tell myself.
But I really don’t want to. For one, I would fail our mother spectacularly. I’ve failed her in many other ways already. I don’t want to fail at this too.
However, I resign to the fact that we would never be the same again. I don’t think we could ever be so close. But I’m still grateful everyday that the little sister in me is still trying.
Most days, more than anything in the world, I just want my big brothers back.