Wednesday, April 10, 2019 // The Statement
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Finntan Storer
statement

THE MICHIGAN DAILY | APRIL 3, 2019

W


e parked in front of that
pristine white building with
Roman columns surrounded
by trees where all the kids were lounging
on blankets and blasting Jack Johnson.
Somewhere over that way past the cute
coffee shop,” I claimed to my mom as we
tried to find our way back to the car after
moving into my dorm and taking a stroll
downtown.
“It was two buildings down, a right,
another right, and 15 feet forward,” my
sister Clara countered.
I really want to scream in her face and
walk away when she argues like this. It
exemplifies perfectly what polar oppo-
sites we are. I see the world in colors,
sounds and emotion (I even cry in the
first few minutes of “Frozen” every time).
Meanwhile, she’s meticulous, practical
and painfully literal. She’s very straight
edge and sees an answer to everything.
I’ve always been the creative one who
loves reading and writing, and she’s
always been the science and math whiz.
I’m the social one, or as she would say, the
loud one. I take laps around rooms to talk
to everyone and laugh so loudly I can be
heard across the room. She’s extremely
shy and introverted, usually waiting to be
approached but becoming extremely close
to a select few.
If we could combine our powers and
fuse into one body, we’d be a superhuman.
The problem isn’t that we don’t get
along, but that we simply don’t speak to
each other. Growing up, we rarely inter-
acted because we had absolutely nothing
in common. We live our own lives, and
because our brains are wired differently,
it’s hard to converse. This isn’t what I
expected when I was told I was going to
be an older sister. I thought having a sis-
ter meant slumber parties and a built-in
movie night buddy, and that’s why it frus-
trates me so much when I say it’s 2:00
p.m. and she corrects me that it’s 2:07
p.m. Similarly, she can’t understand why
I’m always singing at the top of my lungs
in the house or talking nonstop in the car.
Her penchant for preciseness and her
reserved personality contradicts every-
thing I stand for. And because we don’t
understand each other, we silently agree
to simply ignore each other. This has been
our mutual understanding for years.
She doesn’t often come up in conver-

sation, so people in college are often sur-
prised to learn I have a sister. They’re
more surprised when they see a picture
of her and realize we don’t even look like
we’re from the same family. I explain that
our relationship has always been a bit
icy. Growing up, my teachers and family
members kept swearing we would become
best friends one day and that we would
look back and laugh at our younger selves.
I was told over and over again that sisters,
even if their relationship starts off rocky
or they fight until they pull each other’s
hairs out, always become inseparable...
eventually.

Yet during college, we still only gave
each other quick waves whenever I came
home for break. I didn’t feel the over-
whelming inseparability we were told we
would develop as we matured. We didn’t
text each other about our personal lives,
share secrets and bond like sister soul-
mates should. I felt like something was
wrong with me. Who doesn’t miss their
own sister?
Then came the first update about some-
thing annoying our mom was doing. I
would chuckle, send a text back, maybe
even share a funny joke I had heard earli-
er that week. She would send me videos of
our baby cousins, and bake maize and blue
sugar cookies when I came home for the

summer. I would drive her to the mall and
draw out of her a couple stories about her
friends and her new job at the ice cream
shop. The longer I was away from home,
the more we seemed to communicate.
During my senior year, she finally vis-
ited me on campus. We did the usual
rounds of tailgates, Blank Slate, introduc-
tions to friends and Frita Batidos. We did
everything we could possibly do on cam-
pus, expended all our energy and by Sun-
day afternoon, she was gone.
The crazy thing was that when she left,
I really missed her. I returned to my apart-
ment and I could see she had left her hair

tie on my desk, just like I do everywhere I
go. My room felt a little empty and I real-
ized how much I had liked having her
around. She had a reassuring presence,
as she would sit quietly and keep me com-
pany as I panicked to do the homework I
hadn’t done while hanging out with her
all day. She had a cheerful disposition,
always happy to meet my friends and nod
along as I tried to brainwash her for hours
on why she should go here for college.
It was the little things that gave me
comfort. I liked knowing that when we
ordered food, we’d be picking two dif-
ferent things and automatically sharing
— that I would probably get something
sweet and she would get something

savory and we’d be excited to try both. I
remembered that when I ate the choco-
late part of a black and white cookie she
would eat the white part, which I didn’t
like. We had scarfed down a large feta
bread and I had felt no judgment from her.
When she entered the apartment, she had
immediately taken her shoes off because
our mom would have killed us otherwise.
I opened up my laptop to catch up on all
the studying I hadn’t done when she was
visiting and when I went to turn music on,
I remembered fondly how much we had
obsessed over One Direction growing up.
Unknowingly, the weekend with her had
been one of my favorites of all my time in
college.
I now recognize that no matter where
I live in the world my sister will be my
home base — the person I know to regu-
larly check in with. I might have more in
common with my friends, but they aren’t
my roots. My sister is.
I believe that my sister, the straight
edge girl who’s always certain there’s a
right and wrong answer, was brought into
this world the way she is so we could bal-
ance each other out. She shines brightly
through her strengths and softens the
blow of my weaknesses. My expectation
of having a sister who would be exactly
what I wanted her to be was never fair.
She needed to contrast me because two of
the same puzzle pieces don’t fit just right.
Our differences truly complement each
other. And honestly, two of me sounds
absolutely exhausting and dangerous.
Maybe one day we’ll be those insepa-
rable and adorable sisters. Or maybe we’ll
flourish and go our own ways. But no mat-
ter what, I know that she’ll always be there
for me, and I will always be there for her.
I feel for both the pains and successes she
will experience in life. I hope she knows
how much she has to look forward to, and
how excited I am for her. I wonder how
she will change throughout her college
years and beyond. All of these sentiments
I have whirling through my head. Mean-
while, we still remain fairly distant, living
out our own separate lives while silently
understanding that even if we don’t speak
every day, and no matter how different we
are, we will always be there when we need
each other the most. Ultimately, it’s this
unspoken trust that defines sisterhood.

Sister, sister

BY MICHELLE KIM, STATEMENT COLUMNIST

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PHOTO COURTESEY OF MICHELLE KIM