By Shekina Oh, 18

Victory Christian International School

I wish I were a better sister.

It never mattered what I did to help them; there were always somehow more ways to help. From feeding my youngest sister Gerber’s baby food to doing her third-grade English homework, being the eldest daughter meant a plethora of never-ending responsibilities. Yet in the midst of the growing to-do lists was a duty borne out of love: the duty of carrying my younger siblings through life.

Still, I wasn’t always the impeccably selfless, self-sacrificing older sibling. In fact, I’m usually the opposite, even today. Making sure my two sisters were okay often fell on top of my other responsibilities—usually school and work—and, as a workaholic, I almost always ended up crashing out because of it. Sometimes, I’d yell at my middle sister for asking me to write one or two paragraphs of her speech due that night. And I often frowned at my youngest sibling when she asked me to teach her elementary english or social studies.

That said, it made sense that my two sisters ended up closer to each other, which meant I found myself alone during family outings. I couldn’t get angry, though. Deep down, I knew the damage I had done to our sibling bond. We rarely spoke to each other, often watching reels side by side when we were in the same room instead of hosting the typical “sister rants” found in movies. This went on for most of my teenage years.

By the time I reached legal age, I couldn’t handle our relationship anymore. It seemed so irreparable, as if a hammer had torn it to shreds. Still, as much as I’d like to say I implemented changes in my life and began regularly spending time with my siblings, those didn’t happen—especially not overnight. Instead, I began by sharing “sister love” reels to my middle sibling, who already had Instagram. For my youngest sibling, I regularly took her to buy light snacks. All these were my indirect ways of saying “I love you.”

I even began trying to hold short conversations with them and listening to their after-school stories at the dinner table, which taught me so much about their individual quirks and traits. Through these talks, I learned that my middle sister was vying for the top award in school, while my youngest sister wanted to maintain her rank as number one in her badminton team.

Even today, I wish to hug my sisters and have long rants with them. Most of all, I yearn to one day directly tell them, “I love you.” But that’s not how sibling relationships work.

So, for now, time and effort are the glue as I learn to be a better older sister.