A reflection on oldest daughters, quiet sacrifice, and the sisters who raise us too

By: Amara Soleil

One year, when my birthday was coming up in 2019, I was completely obsessed with Stranger Things. It was right before I started high school, that strange in-between season where everything feels bigger than it is. My mom and my sister decided to plan an at-home birthday for me. Nothing flashy, just love woven into the details.

One weekend, my sister took me to Party City to pick out decorations. After that, she took me to Shake Shack, where I tried a vegan burger for the first time. I still remember sitting there, feeling grown in the smallest ways. Later, my middle sister called asking her for money because she had gone out to eat seafood with our cousins and didn’t have enough to pay. I remember thinking how typical it was. Her going out without the funds, and my older sister stepping in anyway. Paying for food she didn’t even eat. That was always her role.

My older sister is my rock. My second parent. She is patient, kind, loving, responsible, supportive, beautiful, and dependable. No matter what, she shows up. No matter what, she encourages me to do better.

Listening to Monaleo’s Diary of an OG made me think of her in a deeper way. It made me realize how much my sister sacrificed, how she had to grow up early and learn how to be someone else’s sister when she didn’t always have space to be one herself. The lyrics hit close:

Oldest girl
Feel like I owe the world, but it don’t owe me
Overcompensate for baggage people don’t see
So much so as an adult I forgot I had needs
I forgot it was my world too
I wasn’t brought in this world to be a stepstool.

I see what she carries. She gives emotionally, physically, mentally. She is the go-to person. She has the passwords, the keys, the money, the answers. She gives and gives, often without pause.

I wish the best for her because she deserves it. I want her to choose herself more often. People say she’s too nice, but I don’t mind being the bad guy if it means protecting her. I’ll always be in her corner.

Now she has my nephew, who is the cutest little shadow, always wanting to be near her. I am so proud of her. Seeing her pregnant during spring break was beautiful. Carrying life with so much grace, barely complaining, holding everything together like she always does.

She is an incredible mom. She makes sure he sleeps, eats, and has everything he needs no matter what’s going on around her. I try to be her support system whenever I can. Children are expensive, and life doesn’t slow down. During winter break, I watched him so she could shower, cook, do laundry, or simply sleep. I made sure she had the best diaper pail because diapers add up fast. When things were left on the bed or floor, I picked them up in the morning. I swept her floors because she was busy being everything for everyone.

She has been my second rock, right next to my mom. From early on, she walked me to school. She took me to my first concert. She even brought a party bus to Atlantic City. So much of what she did always included us. That kind of love stays with you forever.

She is special to me in ways I don’t always know how to explain. Without her, I don’t know who I would be or how I would have stayed sane. She is a September bear. Heavy and grounded. Storing warmth and strength to last through the coming cold.

Reflection: Who has been your rock?