Here's to my hero

Recently I referenced some random little known fact to my sister and she asked incredulous "how did you know that?" and I said "You told me, don't you know just about 75% of the shit I know comes from you?"

It made me so happy to be able to say that to her because we've come such a long way. T and I did not grow up together. We are the products of an unfortunately typical Jamaican family dynamic. My father is a philanderer (we have an older brother born to another mother, plus a sister born between us - to an additional other mother) and a flake who left us when I was only three months old.

My mother could not afford childcare while she worked, so I was taken to live with my father's sister and her family of three boys and two girls, while my sister went to my grandparents who also housed my aunt and her son. We were both unplanned pregnancies, but completely loved and wanted and I cannot imagine how world wrenching it must have been for my mother to not only be left to care for us alone, but to have to give us up as well.

She got off to a rocky start but Mummy supported the hell out of us, largely unassisted by my father. She put us through high school and college (I did my part to ease the burden by dropping out after one year of college), and even now that we're adults (on paper at least) she still insists on mothering us every chance she gets, and when she can't find any she creates them.


Because of Mummy's financial sitation ---> need to finish her first degree---> scholarship to Germany---> our family didn't live together until I was 11, when I insisted I wanted to move to my grandparents house so I could be with my sister whom I adored even though she HATED my guts. I am nothing if not an optimist and I was convinced if I were around more maybe she would see how awesome I thought she was and then surely she would love me.


That did not work out as planned, I just gave her the opportunity to hate me year round while I cried a lot and whined to anyone who would listen "T hates me!" For the first 4 of my 5 years of high school I tried very hard to make her love me, but eventually my constant pain over our shitty relationship overwhelmed me into indifference to my entire home situation.

In retrospect we all in that house had embattled relationships with each other, but by the time we were both in college I figured out that T didn't love me because she didn't think I loved her. So I decided to wear her down by showing her a ridiculous amount of love and adoration no matter how mean she was... and it worked. Now she is bar none my favourite person in the world, and I'm pretty certain I am hers.

Lemme just lay some framework

Healthy relationships are a defense mechanism. Most of us would be fine living loosely inside our interactions with people, but our tendency to fuck up necessitates some borders to protect us from each other.

We exist on different notches on this spectrum of "healthy" in our relationships, some of us allow all people to be very shitty to us, some of us allow some people to be very shitty to us, and others allow a little shittiness from a lot of people, because healthy notwithstanding we all have to put up with some degree of shit since we really can't always be ramrod. We can't. - anyone who can is also probably alone.

I suspect there are people who think I have an unhealthy relationship with the older of my two sisters T because I would spend every day of the week with her and complain that I miss her when we're apart too long, or go out of my way to make her happy. See the thing is, I accept some degree of bad behaviour from certain people, but membah mi tell yuh, everytime you fuck up yuh name mawk innah di book and that shit has a limit. Except with my sister, all the shitty you don't get to be with me is resting on a platter that girl gets to keep because I trust her, and I am gonna love her no matter what she does. And I don't care what you say about that. She's the one person I am completely dedicated to and yuh cyaa talk to mi bout dat so don't even try. I. Will. Effin. Cut. You. If. You. So. Much. As. Look. At. Her. Sideways. Much less try an seh sup'm.

The good news is, she is great to me. She's the most amazing big sister and everyday I'm so amazed to have been gifted her. Because we trust each other our relationship is that one place forgiving and being forgiven any fuck up is automatic. It's crushing for me to consider disappointing her, but despite all my apprehensions I'm always surprised to find she she loves me no matter what stupid shit I've done this time. She doesn't judge me for being needy, or unfair or hate me for being mean. She's as much as said she doesn't understand me, but doesn't give a shit about my oddities cause she loves her some little sis.

People have said our attachment to each other is cloying, but i'm telling you, they just don't get it. We had a very bitter relationship up until my college years (the first ones), and it has been a long hard struggle to get to where we are now, and we're making up for all that lost time.

In my very roundabout way I'm trying to say my sister is my safe space in this world, regardless of the messups and hard truths I am always certain there is one place I'm ok when it comes down to being loved, and I will do whatever it takes to give her that same certainty... cause oh man I love me some big sis.

apostrophe:purple

Nike. My sister and I say that to each other as a signal of unreserved no holds barred.. don't think about it.. just go ahead and do it dammit encouragement and it's a long running joke between us.

When we were teenagers - she about 17, I; 14-15, she was outside playing sweetheart in the shadow of the camper of my mothers truck; I was playing lookout when she ran inside all smiles and giddiness saying "He wants to kiss me! What should I do? What should I do??"

They had been friends since basic school (PreK) and we had no idea he "liked her liked her", she didn't like him "like that", plus there was a boy at school that she liked and who liked her even though they'd not done anything beyond pine after each other and perhaps flirt. T was both chaste and well chaperoned, and I was the adventure seeking rebel of the litter (of two) who was already getting into shit loads of trouble, that girl should have known better than to ask my advice.

Using a few well placed questions (I was born rational.. really!) - what about what's his face at school? Do you like like boy outside? Do you want to? (of course the answer was yes, no matter how chaste or well chaperoned what teenage girl doesn't want to be kissed?), and knowing that iron grip mummy might never slip and let her have a crack at boy at school, it was agreed that she should toss everything to the wind - or hormones and poor decision making and in my words "Just do it" Just do it" - "Nike" and go kiss boy outside.

A few hours later she came back inside purple lipped and probably smiling until we discovered HUUGE UNHIDABLE dark bruises all over her neck thanks to hoover lips. Seriously, I'm talking about the mothers mothers mother of all hickies that would not budge, and trust me we combed with the desperation of teenagers who knew our lives depended on it. Visualise with me for a moment.. if you knew your life, your future, your chance to see the light of day EVER again depended on being able to banish hickies with a comb.. how hard would you work? Exactly.. we tried damn hard, hell we even took a brush to the damn things!

Needless to say my mom saw them next morning and arrived at the obvious conclusions
a: hickies, and
b: she had obviously not done a good enough job of keeping T away from boy at school.
Mummy was so mad T was banned from any contact with boy at school, and T was so mad she never let hoover lips near her again. She never confessed that it wasn't poor boy at school who'd never even had the courage to try anything like that, because if Mummy knew there was more than one cause for concern she would probably have fashioned a chastity belt immediately of whatever was within reach.. which might have been T's neck, AND never let her see the light of day again. Now if you ask me.. two hours of intense kissing was completely worth it... cause I don't think boy at school would ever have had the balls or the chance to kiss her anyhow.

Not only did I get her into trouble, it was also the piece of bad advice that kept on giving for the better part of ten years because our mother who is like a dog with a bone never let her forget her horrible "transgresson against ironmother". Anyhow, she's never stopped asking my advice, and when it's a situation where it's obvious she should go on ahead and just do it, I always say "Nike" and she laughs and says "I don't know if I should listen to you, when you say that I end up getting into a shit load of trouble." If you ask me, that's a good thing, because it's great to solicit feedback.. but even the most well meaning advice should be taken with a grain of salt.

To be honest though, even though I said so, I really don't think that was bad advice.. hours and hours of kissing... a long running joke that reminds us how happy we are to have each other and how far we've come every single time we giggle about it, plus a great life lesson... I don't think anyone could really dispute how well I did by her - 'cept ironclad mummy, and she doesn't count.

I think I'm at a point in my own life where I need to apply my own advice liberally, but when you're at a crossroads it's tough to ferret out the options.. much less make a decision and "nike". In the meantime... I am so grateful for ironclad mummy, who has mellowed into something a teeny bit more flexible and comfy to lean on, and for T whose existence adds more to my life everday and beyond anything I could have imagined.

Here is apostrophe:purple, which I think is coming along well considering I really hated it at first, but I refused to be defeated by its ugly so I kept plugging away at it... and lemme tell you... there were days I kicked it away or turned it facedown cause I couldn't stand to look at it anymore.
p.s.
I'd also like to add that ironclad mummy had no cause for concern... T brought her virginity tightly clutched into her twenties and gifted it to the man who is now her husband.