Sister from the same mother
Sisters can be pains. They steal your parents' undivided attention, then they grow up and steal all your belongings. If you're really unlucky some steal your friends.
At the very least they definitely steal your space and privacy.
My sister was a saint. Not.
She was the baby, the golden child with beautiful ringlets for hair.
She was my baby sitting job, the reason I had no playtime.
She gave me no privacy, I had to pick her from school everyday instead of hanging with my friends, she got into all my makeup and jewellery, and as she grew older she thought all my clothes belonged to her by virtue of being in the same house.
She drove me up the wall with her stubbornness and drove me nuts with how she curried favour with our mom.
The love-hate continued even I was married and long gone to my own home.
And then my mom died. My dad married a step-mum who followed the Hansel and Gretel script well is all I'll say. So a dramatic rescue later, my sister became my housemate again.
And so here we were, back to the wardrobe thefts and dug up makeup cakes. The untidiness that seems to be every teen's right!
But something changed this time around. You see, by now I was a mom of 2 kids under the age of 4, and now I needed all the support I could get.
And Stuti stepped into the role of helper, confidante, baby-sitter and friend.
She still drained water and resources, But she gave back Love and Care.
She still stole my clothes, but she wore them to getting education degrees that make us proud.
She loved my babies and shared in their life.
She saw my failures and wiped my tears.
She stood staunchly against anyone that was anti-us.
She supported my different journeys and advised me when I needed to hear the words.
She was my Maid of Honour at Wedding 2.0.
Stuti, the one with multiple degrees, the patient's fav psychologist, her husband's "poochie", my kids' "akka", Casper the doggo's mum....
Stuti, my sister, my first best friend, my sister from the same mother.
I will always love you.