From scorn to sisterhood Episode 1

My sister was supposed to be my first friend, my safe place, the one person who would stand beside me when the world became cruel. Instead, she became my deepest wound. Growing up, I never understood how blood could carry so much bitterness. From the outside, people saw us as sisters, smiling together, sharing the same parents, the same home. But behind closed doors and even worse, in public she treated me like someone she despised.

No matter what I bought, she always had something bad to say. If I wore a new dress, she would laugh and ask loudly where I got it from, then add that it looked cheap. If I bought shoes or a handbag, she would roll her eyes and say, “Is this what your husband can afford?” Her words were never whispered. She said them boldly, making sure everyone around could hear. Each sentence felt like a slap, but I swallowed my pain and forced a smile, because I did not want people to see how deeply she hurt me.

What hurt more was how she spoke about my husband. She reduced his efforts to nothing, calling him poor and unserious, as if money was the only measure of a man’s worth. In front of family members, neighbors, and even strangers, she would shake her head and say, “She is just managing in life.” Every time she said it, my chest tightened. I wondered why she felt the need to pull me down to lift herself up.

I never fought her back. I believed sisters should not become enemies. Instead, I kept quiet, hoping that my silence would calm her anger. But silence only made her bolder. The more I endured, the more she insulted me. Sometimes, after she disgraced me in front of people, I would go into my room and cry quietly. I asked myself over and over what why my own sister hated me so much. I searched my memory, trying to find where I had wronged her, but I found nothing.

There were nights I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, praying to God for understanding. I asked Him to either change her heart or harden mine so I would stop feeling the pain. I loved my sister despite everything, but loving her felt like bleeding slowly. Still, I held on to hope. I believed that one day, time would teach her what my patience could not. I believed that one day, the sister who embarrassed me would remember that we came from the same womb and that love was supposed to be stronger than hatred.

That hope was the only thing that kept me standing.

Continue reading Episode 2