Sisters

The subject of sisterly relationships was recently brought to the top of my subject matter. Not involving me but involving one of my very close, maybe closest, of friends and a third party. So I would like to just speak on the subject of sisters and sisterly relationships.

I have several. By blood and Not by blood.

This person’s third party is disgruntled (for lack of a better word) because she felt that my close (sisterly) friend was (had) not put forth any (enough) effort into their “sisterly” relationship. The first thing that I told my sisterly friend is just this…

SISTERLY RELATIONSHIPS DO NOT TAKE EFFORT. THEY JUST ARE. I HAVE A HANDFUL OF WOMEN THAT I WOULD CONSIDER MYSELF TO HAVE A SISTERLY RELATIONSHIP WITH. ONE IS MY SISTER BY BLOOD. ONE IS MY SISTER BY MARRIAGE (EVEN IF ONCE REMOVED). ONE IS MY COUSIN (WHO WAS RAISED LIKE A SISTER). ONE IS MY VERY BEST FRIEND FROM THE WAY BACK MACHINE. OUR RELATIONSHIPS ARE THERE. NO MATTER WHAT. THEY GET ME. ALL THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE CRAZY (THERE’S A LOT OF CRAZY). I CAN BE MY TOTAL SELF WITH THEM AND I KNOW THEY WILL STILL LOVE ME NO MATTER WHAT. EVEN IF I AM A TOTAL BITCH, OBNOXIOUS (OH YES, IT HAPPENS), HATEFUL, OR PATHETIC. I KNOW THAT NO MATTER HOW MUCH TIME HAS PAST SINCE I SPOKE TO THEM LAST, BE IT 2 DAYS OR 10 MONTHS OR 8 YEARS…THAT WHEN I DO SPEAK TO THEM, IT IS LIKE I JUST SPOKE TO THEM YESTERDAY. I KNOW THAT NO MATTER HOW LONG IT HAS BEEN SINCE WE SPOKE, IF I NEED THEM, I CAN CALL THEM AND THEY WILL BE THERE. AND THEY KNOW THAT I WOULD DO THE SAME FOR THEM. NO MATTER WHAT. I LOVE THEM WITH ALL MY HEART. THERE IS NO EFFORT INVOLVED.

The third party clearly does not understand the core of the meaning of the term “sisterly relationship”. And I feel sorry for her. She must be a very lonely person.

So let me tell you a story from way back when.

I had a friend. To use the term loosely. Her name was Angie. When I was in Junior High, I lived out of the school district. None of my school friends lived near me. So the friends that I hung out with at home were separate from my school friends. Angie was a home friend. She was a year younger than me. I used to attribute our differences to the fact that she was younger and less mature than I. Quite a philosophy for an eleven year old, but none the less, if you knew me when I was younger, it would make total sense. My Granny and Granddaddy used to call me the 40-year-old midget. Because I acted 40 when I was four.

Anyway….

Angie used to pout when she did not get her way. She used to lay guilt trips on me. She used to manipulate me into doing things that I did not want to do. Most of the time I would eventually give in because I wanted the company. Whenever I did not give in, we would have a fight and she would eventually come around apologizing to me and kissing my ass for a few days to get her feet back in the door.

My parents did not like her. I found out after I was older. I laugh now. No wonder they did not like her. She was a total little spoiled selfish bitch. And we spent a lot of time together. A LOT. Camping trips. Sleep overs. Bike rides. I even have her picture in my scrapbook my mother made for me when we trick-or-treated together one year. I was a playboy bunny (remember 40 years old) and she was my date, Peewee Herman. When she slicked her hair back, she had an uncanny resemblance to Peewee. Ask me sometime, I’ll show you the pic.

Anyway….

We had one of our usual fights and then she said she was sorry and was really nice for a couple of days, as usual. Then we had another fight. I don’t remember if Mom and I really discussed it or if she was just there for me, but I remember hanging out in the kitchen with my Mom and suddenly feeling like I didn’t need Angie anymore. Why was I tolerating her crap???!!! I had other friends, better friends, friends that treated me better, friends that made me feel better.

A couple of days went by…

And Angie came back around….

Saying she was sorry. As usual.

Again I accepted. But it was very short lived. She was in our kitchen on a Saturday when my Mother was at work. Heather was there and whatever Angie said made me suddenly realize that she was not going to change. I had to change. I stopped and looked at her very suddenly and said,”Get out of my house.”

She did not take me seriously…..at first. I ended up physically removing her from our house out the back sliding glass door. I guess you could call it my first physical fight with someone other than my sister or boxing with my Dad (too bad Angie didn’t know I practiced). Oh it really wasn’t that bad. I think.

Heather was freaking out. Though she just stood there with her eyes wide and mouth open as I drug Angie out the door and then out the back gate and screamed that if she came onto our patio (we didn’t have a yard) I would kick her ass completely. I told her I was sick of her shit, sick of her trying to make me feel guilty and I was done. Move on.

I went back into the house and locked our door. My adrenaline was pumping overtime. My sister was still standing in the same spot with the same look on her face. I don’t remember if I hugged her, probably not at that point in our lives, but I should have. She was scared to death. I was after the fact. During, it was all instinct.

Mom got home that Saturday and asked what we did for the day. I replied nonchalantly that I threw Angie out of the house and told her to piss off. Mom paused for a moment and replied, “Good for you.”

And that was the end of it.

Angie continued to call and knock on the door for about a month. But I was done. Washed my hands.

We all laugh now when we talk about it. Heather says, “I thought you were going to kill her.” I so wish that I had that learned knowledge and strength to deal with all the future negative relationships in my life. But instead I let others drag on way too long. Thank goodness my sisters were there to support me through them all. Bosses, Ex-husbands, Co-Workers, and Others.

Friends should make you feel good. Sisters should make you feel good. If they don’t- They are not your friends and they are not your sisters.

I am thankful that I am blessed with many sisters. And Angie is not one of them. Sorry Angie. I would like to think that you learned a valuable lesson from me and went on to treat the future people in your life better.

Live and Learn.

Or as my husband would say.

Live. Laugh. Learn.

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1 Comment

  1. Claudia said,

    November 10, 2011 at 10:10 PM

    I call it an Ol’ Sole and you diffinately had it. I can totally see you like that as an 11 yr old. I have never worked with anyone I enjoyed more. Loved your analysis.


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