Sisterhood

My stepsister and I are about to be related in yet another way—after a week of rush, she received a bid from my sorority.

L and I have known each other since she was eight and I fourteen, when our parents quickly decided to blend our families. A couple summers ago, the three of them—-my dad, my stepmom, and L--moved to Georgia . At this time, I was half-way through undergrad at USC, and as the years passed L and I gradually grew apart. When I visit now we barely speak--let alone do the things we used to despite the six-year age difference: check out the Mall of Georgia, sing to funny songs the radio, swap gossip about her high school life and my college one.

Our parents’ tumultuous relationship likely has much to do with our growing apart, or at least I tell myself this. It’s better than believing I failed her as a sister or she simply doesn’t want anything to do with me. Either way, I don’t think it helps when one’s step-family has been created, destroyed and then formed again twice in less than a decade. The bad-mouthing, swearing-off, and seeing other people that transpired certainly didn’t help things. Nor did the cross-country move.

But today, I feel like things will change.

The bonds of sisterhood I felt at USC were elastic—I felt closer to some sisters more than others at certain times. Being roommates, dorm-mates, or simply growing apart accounted for this. Now, I could count on one hand the sisters I still speak to regularly. (And I only say regularly because Facebook and email qualify as speaking. Though, just to note, I do have dear friends who just happen to also be my sorority sisters--I am more referring to the majority, who I rarely have contact with.) Because I entered sorority life already having three non-blood sisters—my best friends—I didn’t immerse myself into it the way others did.

Today, I feel like I have a second chance at sisterhood. I get to relive my own sorority experience through L. While I can’t say that I engage in regular coffee dates with my sisters now that we live outside the walls of our house, the special meanings and secrecy of being in a sorority still mean a lot to me. They mean even more to me now that I get to share these with L.

In a more meaningful way, I get to start over from scratch on the sisterhood front. While I don’t know if though this new bond L and I will regain the closeness we once had, or if things will stay the same save simple acknowledgment that we share a house—I am excited for the chance to be a sister to her without the darkness of our parents’ past mistakes hanging over us.