Why I’m Glad My Sister is My Soul Mate
I think it’s fair to say that in Western culture, we’re pretty obsessed with the idea of soul mates. Most people want to find the person who completes them, who understands them in ways no one else can. Soul mates do sound pretty great, but I’ve never understood why they’re always portrayed as love interests. I mean yes, some people’s soul mates are their romantic partners, but you can be in love with someone and marry them without them being the perfect match for your soul. I actually prefer a little more tension in my romantic relationships; my boyfriend and I really different, which keeps our relationship interesting because I’m always learning something new about him. Soul mates, on the other hand, are the people who just get you and help shape the person you are, and I don’t think that person has to be a lover. For me, that person is my little sister, Grace. I think our sister relationship fits the definition of soul mates better than many romantic relationships because of the trust and history that defines it.
My love for Grace is real because I really don’t remember a time when she wasn’t the person who did life with me. I was two when she was born, and apparently I resented her existence for about two weeks before deciding she was my best friend. Because we’ve grown up together, we’ve seen each other at our very worst, and I don’t mean that in adult sense. I’ve seen her when she threw temper tantrums in diapers, when she was sick, when she danced in front of the mirror in ways she didn’t intend anyone else to see, and when she was the most annoying person on the planet (she sings show tunes non-stop. Even while we’re falling asleep). In a very literal sense, she is my history. Romantic soul mates don’t always have that kind of glimpse into each other’s personal pasts because they meet each other when they’re older and in public settings. After some time, they may be as open with each other as Grace and I are, but we have always shared our true selves with each other because, well, it couldn’t be avoided when sharing a bedroom. Being sisters definitely makes our connection deeper.
Having Grace as my soul mate also means we take completing each other to a whole other level. We were raised on the same movies, books, and family references.We bond over obscure things like our favorite cereal on the daily, and we have stayed up late on countless occasions watching TV shows we aren’t proud we like (The Jersey Shore phase went on for way too long). We also have very similar DNA, so our minds are a lot alike. We aren’t exactly the same, but we look at the world from the same perspective. We constantly say identical things at the same moment, and we don’t even have to try to understand each other—we just do. When I’m feeling mad and don’t know why, she can take one look at me and explain what’s wrong. We even send each other text messages that say the same thing at the same time. The love is real people. Romantic soul mates may have a lot in common, but there’s just something different about having literal brain similarities with someone.
Another great thing about my relationship with Grace is that I’m not afraid to be mad at her. This might just be a me thing, but I have trouble getting mad at guys I’m in relationships with because I’m scared they’ll go away if I scream and yell or accidently say something hurtful. I don’t fully trust them to love me no matter what. With Grace, I never hold back my anger because I have complete trust that she’ll never leave me. I know she has to love me because she’s my sister, and she’s proven over 18 years that nothing could make her turn away for me. She is the definition of bae, and there’s no one I trust more to accept me for who I am. Even if romantic couples do become close over time, they’ll never have Grace and me beat on trust.
Moral of the story: romantic soul mates are cool, but I’d much rather have my sister. We have been through everything together, almost literally, and no guy can come close to that kind of bond. When it comes to soul mates, ovaries before brovaries.
FEATURE PHOTO BY HANNAH BRIGGS