In hindsight, growing up as an only child was boring. No one to pick on, no one to pick on you, no one to cry to about a stupid boy after getting home from school. Yeah, it had its better parts, like not having to share a bathroom or share anything for that matter. All of the attention was on you, but sometimes that was miserable.
High school was lame. Having a group of best friends made it a whole lot easier, but I still never got to experience living with someone my age, let alone experience having a sibling bond with anyone. Best friends are like your sisters, but it’s different. You just share a friendship, memories, and things in common. There was no teacher who said, “you’re so-and-so’s sister?” There was no “I had your brother in class. He was an idiot” type of thing.
College was different. Joining a sorority was one of the best things that has ever happened to me. Every day I come home to 60 other girls living in our home. We all share more than just friendship. We share ritual, values, a bathroom, a room, a sisterhood that is built upon bettering ourselves. We share a home. We all have the same goals, senses of humor, and to be honest, we kind of all look alike. Coming home after a long day of midterms and crying together is more than I ever could have asked for. There’s always someone around to make you laugh, cry, drink copious amounts of wine with.
I may not like everyone in my house, but that’s the beauty of it. I finally get to dislike people because I live with them 24/7. Sometimes I hate the way they laugh, eat, chew their gum, and sometimes I hate the way they breathe. But from what I’ve heard, that’s what sisters do. It’s the best feeling I’ve ever had. Calling 200+ girls my sisters is a little bit much, but I’ve never been more happy in my entire life. Each and every one of them has something different to offer me. There are girls who rage hard, and girls who are good with watching MTV’s “Are You The One?” all day. I come home to people who are like me. To people that care about me as much as I care about them.
So while my parents didn’t give me sisters, I’m happy to say I was able to make them for myself. And that’s pretty cool too..