Why My Sister and I Don’t Speak
Sisters 
I’m in pink. She’s in blue. I was born in 1965 and she was born in 1966, just sixteen months later. You might imagine that we grew up braiding each other’s hair and playing Barbies together. You might picture us whispering secrets from our matching twin beds covered with pink chenille bedspreads. You might think I am lucky to have a sister so close in age.
You’d be wrong.
My sister and I–let’s call her “Joy”–have never been friends. Sure, we were housemates for seventeen years, but never, ever friends. I had little patience with her when we were girls. I didn’t want to play with her–she did not follow rules, she was a slob and she couldn’t fold a blanket into a neat square. She whispered at night, keeping me from sleep. She left sandwiches under the bed. She bit me more than once.
By the time we were in junior high, our parents had divorced. She took it hard. I will never forget seeing her in the kitchen while my mother packed boxes. Tears streamed down her face. She cried–the ugly cry, as Oprah would say–at my mother’s wedding, too. Her grief swallowed her whole and I didn’t have a whit of sympathy. I found her display of emotions embarrassing and dangerous. I pulled away even more.
Sure, looking back, I feel sympathy. I wish I’d been softer and kinder. But early on, I switched into self-preservation mode. I kept everyone a safe distance and worked hard at being good and right and smart. I didn’t have time for sniveling people who didn’t wash their hair.
I see now how difficult it must have been for her. Although I viewed myself as teetering on the brink of catastrophe and failure, the reality was that I was a straight-A student, a much-in-demand babysitter, a reliable member of my youth group, a participant in student government, a passable singer, an avid pianist, a bookworm, an eager volunteer, a good daughter, teacher’s pet and a loyal friend. I considered myself a jack-of-all-trades–competent in many areas, excellent in none. I wasn’t popular, but I was an ideal daughter and student.
Everything I was, she was not. I overshadowed her, but not with malice. In fact, I didn’t give any thought to her at all. I sound so ruthless, but in my family, it was every man for himself. Mostly, I was concerned about being embarrassed by her. I wanted distance between us.
All she wanted was my approval. I see that now.
When we were in college, we became pen-pals. She had pen-pals all over the world and so I was on her list of people to write. We exchanged the most cursory correspondence, nothing of substance, nothing emotional. My letters to and from her had no depth, but they were regular.
I remember the last time we argued. I was newly married and she was newly employed as a language instructor in Asia. She’d come to visit. My youngest sister, my mom, “Joy” and I drove to the house we grew up in, the house in Whispering Firs. (My youngest sister was born in the master bedroom of that house, as a matter of fact, attended only by my completely unprepared father, but that’s another story.) The house was for sale and “Joy” had arranged with a real estate agent for us to tour it. (I think she lied to get us in, actually.)
After our nostalgic walk-through of the shrunken house (it seemed so much bigger when we were so much smaller) we discovered that we were locked out of my youngest sister’s car. We stood in the driveway, helpless, hapless. My mother suggested asking a state patrol officer friend a few streets over for help. That plan failed. Then, “Joy” mentioned she had a AAA membership. Hooray! We were saved!
Except that “Joy” informed us, “It’s my membership. I’m not letting [youngest sister] use it.” She’s selfish like that.
I said, “No, no, no, it doesn’t cover your car, it covers you. So, you can use it, even for her car!” I thought she just didn’t understand.
She understood, but she was not willing to use her resources to help [youngest sister].
We argued loudly and I pointed out her failures to her, as if she hadn’t noticed them before. I was unkind and mean. She was worse.
Eventually, we called AAA.
I decided to never fight with her again. No more yelling. In fact, I decided we’d be shallow acquaintances from that moment on. I wasn’t willing to drip another drop of emotions in the relationship.
And so it went. We continued being pen-pals. At one point, I wrote, “Let’s start over. Tell me what you like. What color? What music? What dreams do you have?” She replied that she was too busy to answer. Every time we interacted, I grew frustrated with her until one day, I realized that my expectations were too high. She acted like she was fourteen–completely self-centered, self-conscious, inconsiderate–and when I began to expect that, I could excuse it. After all, don’t we make some allowances for young teens, knowing that they will eventually mature?
Despite my misgivings and vows, I did keep trying. After all, my dad was dead (when I was 24 and she was 23) and she had no one but family. No husband, no boyfriend, no children, few friends. I extended myself to her, probably out of guilt, maybe to atone for my earlier sins, perhaps because I needed redemption of my junior high self.
And so, when I became pregnant for the second time (what do doctors know anyway?), I invited her to photograph the birth. I wanted photographs, but I didn’t want a stranger during those intimate moments. She dabbles in photography, has taken classes, so I thought I could share with her the miracle of birth and she could be my photographer. I thought it was a great idea, a generous offer.
I went into labor on Labor Day, but for three hours, I denied the obvious. My contractions were two minutes apart when my midwife arrived. By then, I was flinging myself to the ground and howling. In the moments between pains, I telephoned my sister. When she arrived, I was in the birthing tub, clutching the edges of the pool, screaming through the contractions.
I looked up when she and my mom walked in and said, “I’m having contractions. I will scream in a moment. Do not be alarmed.” And then I slid into another avalanche of pain. She clicked the camera, snapping picture after picture. I was vaguely aware of her camera, but my attention was riveted on my baby and the pain my unborn daughter was causing me. Less than an hour later, Babygirl was born.
In the following days, my sister brought the packets of pictures to me. She told me to look them over and decide which ones I wanted reprints of. I said, “Why?” She told me she just wanted to keep the pictures with her. I said, “Why?” She hemmed and hawed and admitted, “I want to show them to people.”
Ding-Ding-Ding-Ding! Alarm bells went off in my post-partum head. “Who?” I said, dumbfounded.
“Oh, [our brother] and Uncle Joe.”
I went into full cardiac arrest and when I was brought back to life with those paddles (“CLEAR!”) I sprang into action. I sorted through the stacks of pictures and removed all those which were unflattering and unsuitable for public viewing. She’d taken some graphic shots of things even I didn’t want to see. The next time I saw her, I handed over a heavily edited stacks of photographs. I explained that I had removed the pictures I wasn’t comfortable with people seeing.
She nodded as if she understood my feelings.
When she left, she told my mother that I had stolen her pictures.
She came to say goodbye before returning to her home in Asia, dropping a final packet of pictures on my dresser. After she’d gone, I finished nursing my baby, picked up the envelope and pulled out the pictures. I found the negatives in sleeves, with twelve of them marked for reprints. I held them up to the light and discovered that she’d made copies of twelve of the pictures that I had deemed too private to show. The pictures she’d taken were of me at my most vulnerable, at the moment my daughter was being born. I was livid.
I emailed her a furious demand that she return the pictures. She ignored it.
I told [youngest sister] what had happened and she reported that “Joy” had showed her a picture. “Joy” told her, “Mel doesn’t want me to show you this.”
I emailed “Joy” repeatedly. She ignored me repeatedly.
Almost a year later, our paths crossed at a barbecue held by my brother to celebrate his marriage. The small gathering was held in their backyard. No room to hide. I decided on the drive over that I would be polite to “Joy.” I would respond to her, but I would not instigate a conversation. I would not extend myself. I wouldn’t speak first.
And so, we did not speak. I realized that day that I had always been the one to say, “How are you?” “How’s your job going?” “What are you doing for fun these days?” “Did you enjoy your trip?” “Are you classes going well?” I’d been throwing out a rope time and time again and she never bothered to catch it. We had no connection.
As I mentioned this broken relationship to friends over the past two years, people have gasped at my unChristian attitude. They can’t believe I am holding a grudge. They wonder why I don’t forgive her.
When I explain the details, they suggest perhaps she needs a good slapping.
But still. A few months back, I decided that someone needed to be the grown-up here. I hate for my mother to have bickering between her children. I don’t want to make the rest of our family uncomfortable on account of my horror at the thought of my exposed self being seen in photographs by strangers.
So I emailed her. I simply asked, “Are you willing to discuss the reason we are not speaking?”
After several days, she emailed back, “I’ll call you when I’m in town.”
I immediately replied, “When will that be?”
She did not answer.
My youngest sister let slip that “Joy” would be in town in May. I emailed “Joy” and said, “I’d really like to discuss this issue before you arrive in May. Please email me back.”
She never did.
Ten days ago, she arrived for a one-week visit. She stayed with my mom, in my town. She made a point of taking my niece and nephew on outings. She ignored my kids entirely. She had dinner with my other sister. She saw my brother and his wife. She did not call me. I didn’t see her.
I guess that’s the end of my tale. Maybe it’s just the middle, but I think it’s likely the end.
And the pictures? They weren’t even that good.
Oh, my blood is boiling! That just makes me so mad! How can she be so awful!?
I’m sorry about your sister. I hope she comes around and her hardened heart can melt some.
Family stuff is just SO awful.
But, I must say, you have managed to write beautifully about it.
Mel,
That is a very sad story. I have been on the fringes of some painful family situations. I am sorry for both of you.
I feel your pain Mel. I wish I had some magic words for you to say to make it all better, but I don’t, I just wanted you to know that my heart hurts for you right now.
They say that blood runs thicker than water, but I think it’s “sicker” than ater. If she wasn’t your sister you would have blown her off years ago.
Well, let’s see now. it would seem that “Joy” needs a good ass kickin. And since I am in an ass kickin kind of mood I’m your girl for the job. Let me know when and where and I’ll have at it.
On a more serious note, I have abrother like that. He is a severe alcoholic and I am in the midst of trying to keep what little respect I have for him intact seeing as how he is severing most of his ties with the family. It ain’t easy bein’ cheesy………..
Hang in there.
Tangie
This post has been removed by the author.
Mel, I can relate. I have a brother who has major problems and essentially has shit on my family for 18 years now.
We seem to “not want to beleive it is true” but it is.
We have removed ourselves from his life by no longer volunteering to be hurt. There is nothing wrong with doing that. Give yourself the freedom!!
We realize my brother has serious issues and until he wants to grow up (yes, he is 42) — then there is little we can do.
We’ve come to the conclusion that while you have family, it doesn’t mean you can make it work — and we have tried — just like you. Endlessly.
My heart goes out to you. I know the pain. Well.
Mel,
What a terrible situation. It is heartbreaking when you desire familial relationships and there is nothing you can do to keep them healthy. Please remember that it is possible to forgive – even have pity – without excusing the behavior or allowing it to continue in your life. The forgiveness is for your benefit, not hers.
And, actually, I do pity her. She is clearly jealous, vengeful and full of misery.
Blessings to you, Mel.
Mel, I haven’t spoken to my brother since April 2001. My thoughts are that you can love someone, but sometimes you just have to love them from a distance. I think your sister is jealous that you have a life, a husband and great kids. I wouldn’t give her a second thought and let her live with the guilt.
Oh my.
Well, *scratching head* ahhhhh….
Nope, forget it, I got nuthin’, total loss of words.
Sorry things are so tough. Hope God has something good up His sleeve here…
I am sorry that you and your sister are at odds. I am also sorry that her side isn’t posted.
This makes me so sad! I’m so sorry for you. How completely frustrating to attempt at healing a relationship only to be rejected. I, too, hope this is the middle of your story, and not the end. God can work wonders…
My dad is one of those people that I do not speak to, for somewhat similar reasons…you know, in the broader sense of the word. I agree with above. I don’t think you should have to have a relationship with people just b/c they are family. My life is better off w/o my dad, I have tried to be the bigger person, and it’s turned out that our lives were just meant to be spent separate from each other. That is so upsetting, though. I’m not sue crazy, but all I can think is how you should have sued her for showing off your private pictures w/o your permission!
Wow! Mel, with a sister like that the best fake name you can come up with is “Joy?” lol, I can think of a few better ones. ~Sue
I remember when the thing with the pictures happened and how hurtful it was then. We both have experienced betrayal in related ways and it just doesn’t go away.
I’d like to comment about the people who think that you show an unchristian attitude with your lack of forgiveness – I personally think these people live in a fantasy land of denial and have a warped sense of what being a “christian” actually means but that is another post, isn’t it?)
My sister and I are not close and it worries me sometimes because I think about what ‘could be but isn’t’ and then I remind myself – the only thing we have in common is the same parents and beyond that-we’re just two people going about our lives and doing the best we can. I’m sure she thinks its me and I know I think it is me. Its me not putting up with the nonsense and bullshit, the drama and her expectancy that she should be able to make whatever choices that she wants with no regard to other’s feelings or the empending consequences….
Maybe one day. Until then, I’m doing the best that I can. This past weekend was difficult for me but I made it and so did she.
Birth can be complicated and the power belongs to the mother. Period.
She might have one up on you, but I’m not sure she realizes all that she gave up to have that one up. She has nothing else and I wonder if it keeps her warm at night?
Probably not.
Oh Mel, I am so sorry that she has (and is still) putting you through something like that.
I have never understood why people insist that you must forgive family members when they do horrible things just because they are related to you.
To me, that just isn’t a good enough reason to let someone walk all over you and your feelings.
mel you sound like an uptight bitch,sounds to me by you writing this your looking and needing everyone to tell you that your right.i think your jealous that your sister cares less for trying to please everyone and shes ok with it.sounds to me like she leads a very interesting and fascinating life and your stuck in suburbia,with a pastor for a husband,little kids and your bored and upset with your choices in life.growup and stop acting like a child except people for who they are and stop being jealous and the moment you admit you are jealous the quicker you can heal and do something about it.ps and as for her not answering your emails back on such subjects….mel she probably just does not have time to cater to your obvious disection of every incident,i would love to hear her side of the story,and why did you remove olives post?
Anonymous, Do you realize no one is reading this comment but me? Leave your name and email address and the URL for your blog if you are seriously expecting an answer.
Oh, and I didn’t remove the comment by “Olive.” Do you see it says “removed by author”? That means the person who write it–OLIVE–removed it.
Mel, someone just sent me the link to this because I’ve got issues with my younger sister right now. She’s very self-centered and doesn’t do a thing for anyone, especially family. I’ve gone through periods of not speaking with her. As someone said, we are really 2 different people with nothing in common other than our parents. I try to be patient with her, but it is always like walking on glass when I’m around her. She’s the one who’s been in therapy, so I know it’s not me.
Hang in there. I think you are the one who is blessed. You have your own family to be close with and she does not. I think she is jealous.
Mel, Sorry you have to deal with that in you life. We all have our cross to bear. Just want to let you know, I spoke with my Priest about a simular situation in my family. He said that I can still love my family member from a distance and am not required to have contact with them. I can still pray for them and pray for a better relationship. Remember we can only control what we do, and sometimes that’s not even too easy. God bless you.
You cast your sister in the role of villain, the irresponsible and insensitive fuck-up, the slob, the “bad girl,” etc., and yourself as the well-meaning, ever-thoughtful, tidy “good girl.” Sorry, Princess Mel, but your post is just an attempt to validate your holier-than-thou self. I’d like to hear HER side of the story. But you wouldn’t have the guts to listen, would you…
Dear sweet “alma” (as if that’s your real name, you coward),
I, too, would love to hear HER side of the story . . . but she has rebuffed three of my requests to hear her side of the story. She is exactly as I portrayed her here. Only less mature.
Talk about guts . . . I have enough guts to speak the truth, and to allow your ridiculous comment, and you don’t have the guts to sign your real name, leave an email address or a URL.
Furthermore, you do realize that no one reads these old comments but me, right? But thank you so much for leaving your snide comment. I hope you feel better now. Perhaps you should schedule an appointment with your therapist tomorrow to work through some of your hostility.
Gee, it sounds to me like Alma has issues with her own older sister. A little seething envy, perhaps?
My sister was born 15 months after I was and we were the best of friends, the two eldest of large family. We shared those confidences in the bedroom with the matching twin beds…but it wasn’t until Sis went away to college 1,400 miles distant that she finally felt comfortable telling me how hard it had been on her, being a year behind me. I fitted your description of yourself to a T, except for the student government participation (I was way too shy) and piano-playing (I lost interest in my lessons in second grade. Our second-hand piano was in the garage and it was too hard to practice with my mittens on during the cold New England winters!)
Sis said that she was greeted with a big smile by her teachers at the beginning of each school year — a big smile and the comment, “Oh, you are Elle’s sister? Wonderful! Then I expect that you will get straight A’s, too!”
Nothing like starting off each year with a feeling of impending doom, is there?
We didn’t realize until she was halfway through elementary school that Sis couldn’t see the blackboard because she needed glasses, and she was an adult before she was diagnosed with dyslexia. No wonder it took her hours to do the same homework that I could knock off in 45 minutes!
I was very lucky that she was able to rise above any resentment toward me. I was luckier still that she was a kind and caring person and WANTED to rise above her negative feelings.
We have a good relationship these days. The process of reconnecting began when we had our first children at the same time.
But she still lives 1,400 miles from me. Maybe so our children aren’t compared to each other?
I hope that, some day, your sister wakes up. Life is too short to be mean and spiteful. Alma, take note.
Mel..I wonder..if Alma and the previous anonymous commenter are not your sister.
You sister sounds a lot like she became stunted emotionally as a child and never fully matured into an emotional adult. I truly hope she can someday get the help she needs so that you can find civility together.
Hi Mel,
I remember hearing a comment that went, “You can have two Daughters, but you can’t make them Sisters”. I can really relate to this comment and know what you are going through. My Sister can be nice one minute and then totally spitefull the next. If She can find a fault with me She’ll let me know what it is. We lost our Mum when my Sister was 21 and I was 17, and it should have made her realise how lucky we are to have each other.
We had a semi ok relationship when my Sister moved to London ten years ago. She started to contact me more frequently and would tell me what was happening in her life. I don’t think She had many Friends and I was available. She would tell me her problems and I would listen and give advice and try to reassure her. Just what I think a Sister is meant to do.
We were both married this year and have good lives, but now I feel surplus to requirements. She has people in her life now that hardly bothered with her when she could have done with them. I get the odd duty phonecall where we mostly talk about her. I wouldn’t mind but I keep thinking to myself that I wasn’t a good enough Sister to her and that’s why She’s being like this. I break down alot and cry in frustration. My Husband tries to reassure me that it’s not me. He has suggested that I treat her like dirt and She’ll come running, but it’s not in my nature to treat someone like that.
I don’t want to lose my Sister and she knows this. I have tried to explain how I feel but She gets so angry and nothing changes. So what can one do? Should you just walk away and get on with your life, or put up and shut up?
Take care,
Michele.
Hey Mel,
I have a similar story with my sister (who coincidentally is about 16 months younger than me). We always fight because she is never willing to let someone make a comment about something or to have an opinion in opposition to her. Recently our relationship has hit a complete standstill and I have decided that I never want to speak with her for the rest of my life (I am 25 she is 24). She physically attacked me over a stupid argument. I would not have made such a big deal about it, but my parents have decided to be against me in this whole scenario and have even somewhat alienated me. So, like you, I have lost a sister, but I also feel like I have lost a great deal of my family.
I am not sure how things will be in the future, as I want to be able to get along with everyone, but I know that with all the changes that I have had to make in my life as a result of this incident, I will never want to be close to my sister again. I do not wish her bad, but I also do not care to root for her future success. I have never had any single person in my life do and say the most horrible things to me the way that she has and never for once apologize or be the bigger person. I realize that now that she has escalated to physical violence it is pretty clear that she and I can never ever be friends, let alone communicate with each other outside of any necessary communication.
I guess I just wanted to share this because I feel your pain and as someone who is going through the early stages of a seperation like this, it is nice to know that I can still feel like a whole person without talking with my horrible sister.
Mel, I am 54 yrs old and have a very similar relationship with my younger sister. Then, after my father died, I learned that he had left her about $400,000.00 outright and about the same amount in a trust, with me as beneficiary and little sis & her husband as trustees.
When I first learned about the trust, I thought maybe we’d become closer and even communicate once in awhile, but that was not to be. Every conversation with her turned into an argument, with her yelling at me and/or hanging up on me.
They send me some money every month, but it’s clearly not the “total net income” as specified in my father’s will. I was going to go to court over this, but it was so costly and stress-inducing (I have MS) that I gave up on that and just take the money that they send, figuring I’m grateful to have that at least.
But now I hate her. I took every childhood picture that had her or my father in them and burned them, along with other things, in a “hate fire.” I’m pretty much over that stage of anger now.
Sometimes we have to accept what IS and go on with the good parts of our lives without benefit of sisters.
There’s lots more to my story, but perhaps you can find some comfort in the fact that your sis doesn’t have any control over your finacial matters.
Best of luck,
M
I feel that maybe at the beginning of your relationship you didn’t have much empathy for her or understanding and this may have hurt her alot. Maybe when you decided to try it was to late. If you weren’t their for her in her younger years or for 18 years by the time you started trying she may have been so hurt that she let go of having a relationship with you. I’m sure she did really love you. The best you can do is just say sorry to her for not being their for her when she was younger. Say sorry because your family and you should have supported her. Tell her that you were wrong and that you drove a wedge between you both. The best you can do is to be sorry and then give her time to forgive you. Let her come to you in her own time. But if you say sorry to her then you have done the best you can. Her taking the photos was just a reaction to how distant you have been to her, her whole life. But we all make mistakes your a good hearted person and i believe a truly caring person. If she can see your not just trying to make up for your own guilt, but really start to accept her as she is. You need to accept your sister as she is and love her for all her faults. She’s your sister, she’ll never be perfect but thats what sisterhood is. Loving someone although their not perfect. Your family and you need to accept each other even if the rest of the world won’t. Family is what you have nomatter what. Give her one more chance. don’t let someone walk all over you. But you both have things to be sorry for so give it one last try. Good luck with everything.