February 9, 2022
Editor: Lily Wachtel
Artist: Sydney Payton
By the time I was born, my two older sisters were far into their teenage years, so my presence definitely rattled the established dynamic within my family. While my sisters valued their academics, social lives, and future as young adults, my biggest worry was whether or not I had enough seats for every stuffed animal at my tea parties. The fifteen years they shared together fused a bond between them to which I was only a spectator. I’ve always been an aberration in the timeline of my family, sharing experiences with my sisters decades apart. I was torn between feeling like I had been forced to grow up too quickly, while wishing I had cherished my childhood. I witnessed my sisters confront the realities of adulthood, but also yearned to do so with them. In spite of all this, my relationship with both of them has been steady, especially as I become an adult.
My sisters were always my role models, an inevitable byproduct of the age gap between us. I was certainly the quintessential annoying little sister who always tagged along, thinking of myself as another one of the “cool kids;” in reality, I was only invited because someone needed to keep an eye on the baby of the family. In the hierarchical ordering of the Sholomons, I was certainly at the bottom. If I could compare it to anything, I would venture to say I was pledging the family’s fraternity for 18 years. I was never anyone’s go-to; rather, I just grew up as a pseudo only child. Although I felt lonely at times, this forced independence fostered my creativity and imagination as a child.
However, last June cemented a dynamic shift. Driving alone through the darkness on the roads of my hometown, I found myself appreciating the silence, a sensation I was so accustomed to. A ringtone cut through the silence, illuminating onto my dashboard. My middle sister, Kim, who was on the other line, revealed to me that she was pregnant with her first child… and I was the first one to know.
She had entrusted me with this big secret, reaffirming my admiration for her. Not only did she know I wouldn’t tell anyone, but she also told me as an acknowledgment for my place in her life. No longer was I the whiny grade schooler knocking on her door asking to play, but rather a fellow adult and confidant. For years, I had thought that the opportunity to connect to my sisters had been lost the moment that they moved out of the house. And yet, at a moment in time in which our lives could not diverge more, we were closer than ever.
Seven months later and I feel as though I’ve only tuned into roughly four episodes of the season-long arc of Kim’s pregnancy. Physical distance has plagued my existence in this world she lives in, as I focus on my academics, social life, and future as a young adult. My choice to attend college halfway across the country means that I’ve been missing important milestones in my family. Living parallel to them on my own track of life, I no longer feel the loneliness that characterized much of my childhood. Now, I am merely alone. Despite the negative connotation that may hold, it actually represents the opposite – I am living proof that the different timelines between my siblings and I connected us in an unconventional, yet unique way. And in the moments where I am immersed in their lives, I feel especially bonded to them, even from hundreds of miles away. In the moments where I am most alone, I am never lonely.