On Growing Up

In the short story we read this week, "Saving Sourdi," we explored differences in worldview between the protagonist and her older sister, and how this made their paths diverge. It made me think of something that's been on my mind a lot lately: how similar my two younger siblings and I am, yet how far apart we also are.

I think as is the case for people who grow up in the same environment during the extremely impressionable early years of one's life and share the same genetic makeup, my siblings and I are fundamentally bound to one another because of the same lessons and teachings we grew up on.

However, I have come to realize more and more how different we are. Sometimes I cannot understand my sister — only six years younger than me — for what she does, how she reacts to scenarios I would adamantly hold my ground in, for what she values.

How could this be possible?

In a way, we grew up on the same life, only significantly displaced by better-informed parenting and different times. Yet, I've realized that these elements have had a bigger impact on our development than what I thought.

My brother is only three years younger than me, and even it feels like sometimes we're intent on navigating two different oceans. Perhaps three years is enough to split two people.

Or maybe is the issue in feeling like my siblings and I should be so similar that we are indistinguishable?

I don't know, but I saw this on Instagram recently and it's stuck with me since:

(Maybe this is a sign to stop treating my siblings like second-class citizens.)💌