The Middle Sister
Whenever somebody asks me if I have siblings my answer is “No, I’m an only child.” It is the truth, but it also is not. I’m my mother’s only child, but my biological father has two other girls, one older and one younger. But, it is hard for me to just flat out say “I have two sisters” because honestly beyond their names, I don’t know much else.
Yes, we’ve met. We’ve spent a little bit of time together, but what I know of them, and what they know of me, is scarce. Each encounter, at least for me, is awkward.
To make a long story short, my father had my oldest sister, and then began to date my younger sister’s mother. He proposed to her, then got my mother pregnant. For the first two years of my life I was shunned and my mother was a home wrecker, until my great-grandmother looked at me and knew point blank that I was his kid.
He was married by then, and even though my big sister was practically raised with my younger sister, I was not involved in the family bonding.
My father is not a good father. He has not been one to me, and I think it is safe to say that he is not one to my sisters either. His negligence has caused and continues to cause a rift between me and them, but I know it is not the only factor.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that my sisters and I hate each other, we just don’t know each other. We have spent so much time wishing for a relationship with him that the relationships we have amongst each other are null and void.
At least for me.
Big Sis and Little Sis are close. They know each other, go to each others’ events, according to social media. But I am left out, and I don’t think it’s on purpose. I think it’s out of habit and comfort.
My mother asked me one day if I would want a relationship with them. Honestly, I don’t know the answer. Of course, I want my sisters in my life, but I don’t know if I am ready to face the heaviness that comes with it. I am not sure if I want to continue to feel like the third wheel.
I’ve gotten to a place where I can say that my father has fucked up my life and not cry or get angry. Hopefully, one day soon, I can text my sisters and say “Let’s go to brunch.” Or maybe they’ll text me.