The End of a Sistera

If we were to go way back to when I was younger, I would never have thought we would be here. She’s been my best friend, my rock, my safe place. She’s been in my life since the beginning and I honestly believed we would need to die together – as opposed to one of us having to live without the other. Inseparable until the very end. Big sis and little sis. And now, here we stand on the precipice of it all falling apart.

It was never supposed to be like this. Our entire childhood, we clung to one another, carefully crafting what our futures would look like. Overindulging on Disney Princess movies, love stories, and boy band fever. Even when our parents split during our formative teenager years, we held fast to the idea that our marriages would not be the subject of neglect or divorce. We had witnessed, first-hand, what an unhappy marriage looked like, and we both knew that’s not what either of us wanted. So, naturally, I was confused on how we even got to this point.

“Frank and I are separating,” Nicola says flatly, as if she’s ticking off what she’s going to have for dinner. They’re supposed to have been married for 23 years this coming October. Actually, if we’re going there, they were supposed to have been married for life. And here was my sister. Demolishing all we had built up together with a simple statement.

“Okay…,” I respond, not sure entirely of what to say. I feel a flurry of emotions. “So, what happened?”

“Well, things haven’t been good for about six months now. I don’t know how, or why, or what changed with him, but we have not been intimate for that entire six months. Then, I discovered that he would rather watch porn on his phone than accept my attempts at initiation.”

I’m stunned into silence. A rarity for me. I’ve always been the person who knows what to say in a situation like this. But for some reason I can’t bring myself to see this picture from an outside perspective. I’m not sure why. It’s how I usually handle these things; if it were happening to someone else, what would I say to them? But, nope, nothing.

My thoughts are surrounded by my screaming, inner dialogue that this is certainly not a reason to walk away from a 20-plus year marriage. I want to scream at her that she’s being an idiot. I want to scoff and laugh and mock her for feeling that a lack of intimacy is her sole reason for walking away from her husband. But that’s not the right thing to do. I know this.

Instead, I say, “I’m sorry to hear that. It does actually suck that you felt the need to walk away and how he chose something materialistically shallow over his marriage to you. Well, I’m sad but I’m here for you.”

“Thanks sis. I know this is going to be difficult, but I’ve cried so much about it for so long and I’m honestly over it all.”

“Yea, I completely understand. You mourned the death of your relationship as you witnessed it happening. I know what that’s like. No one should have to go through it.”

“Exactly,” she says through gasps and sobs. “I knew you would understand.”

“So, what’s next?” I ask, trying my hardest to sound supportive despite the flurry of confusing emotions inside of my head.

“Well, I’m going to start looking for a place to move into on my own in the next two months or so. Then, when I find a place, I’ll move in,” she explains.

“What about the pets?” I ask. For all intents and purposes, those animals are their kids. And I know it’s not going to be easy for them to divvy them up evenly.

“Well, for now, they’ll stay at the house with Frank. Then we’ll see who stays with him and who comes with me once I find a place,” she responds.

“I see,” I say plainly. At once, I’m aware that my voice has betrayed me. I can only hope she doesn’t notice.

“Go ahead and tell me sis,” she prompts. And of course, she doesn’t miss the concern coming out in my every word.

“I just…none of this makes any sense! There’s no way that you’re this stupid. You’re throwing away a fairytale marriage for something that is fixable. And certainly not something that you just throw away without trying to work through it!” I exclaim.

“And what makes you think I haven’t tried to work through it with him? Because I have. I have suggested therapy – he shut that down right away – and I even asked him what he needed from me. He said nothing. It may not be something that you can turn your back on, but I can and I am,” she calmly retorts.

“That’s the difference between you and I,” I tell her, “I would never throw away my life with someone over something so shallow. The sister I know and grew up with would never respond to a situation like this.”

Nicola sighs, “You’re right. That Nicola is gone. She’s dead and I am now choosing me. For so long, I went along with what everyone else approved of. I went from being a daughter to being a wife with very little experience in between. And I’m done with all of that now. I’ve spent my entire life pleasing everyone else and compromising my own happiness and boundaries – it’s time for me to be selfish.”

Nicola was right, of course. She had married Frank in the first place because our mom and brothers all approved of him. Her friends all approved of him. I, myself, clamored over their union and held it as a prime example of what true love is and what it looks like. In a world where true love is largely believed to be a myth, they surpassed so many expectations.

I don’t respond to her, and she mistakes my silence as a statement of disapproval.

“Wow,” she cuts in. “Well, your silence speaks volumes.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s just really catching me off guard and I’m feeling all sorts of different things. It feels like I’ve lost my sister. Then the trauma from mom and dad splitting is just adding to the feeling of being overwhelmed. At the same time, I’m feeling torn like I need to pick sides between the two of you and you betrayed our childhood promises. Oh! And your dismantling the sanctity of marriage and my idea of what love is. And what about all the times that I thought I was so close to marriage, only to have it ripped away. I’m not sure why you thought it would be a good idea to bring up divorce to someone who, for the longest time, could only dream of having the love and partnership that you have with Frank. And now you’re just throwing it all away? I’m not okay with that. It’s a betrayal.”

There was no more talking at that point. She said she understood how I felt. I asked for some time to sit with all of this, and that was it. We stopped talking after that. She reached out a couple of times, but I couldn't bring myself to answer her calls.

The sister I knew was gone. In her place was this person with such a dramatic shift in morale (in the wrong direction) that I didn’t know her – and my sister was dead. Adding to the strangeness: she’s still physically alive.

Nicola’s new desires for her life changed my entire perspective of her. My formative years were spent looking up to her, admiring and respecting her maturity and boundless love. Her endearing manner of, what I thought, was a collected way to handle confrontations. She didn't like them nor seek them out, but her passiveness allowed her to handle the situation appropriately.

Now, there is this Nicola - a stranger. I felt like I didn’t want to get to know her. The really messed up part about it all was this: she was one hundred percent, completely okay that I wanted nothing to do with this version of her. What added insult to injury was the fact that if I had told Nicola about this same situation last week, she would agree with me.

Now it seems that she has changed irreversibly – and I feel like I have lost her forever. And what I said about her betrayal, it can’t be taken back. I can’t take back what I said any more than she can take back her dismissal of the marriage. And she certainly cannot take back her dismissal of my feelings.

She has decided to move to another state with her current partner and his daughter. Another stab and telling confirmation that she no longer cares if I am accessible. It's heartbreaking and confusing all at once, and somehow, I know, that this is the end.