this says more about me than about her, really

As my sister swings from being moderately thin to being morbidly obese to (now) being incredibly fit - and working out through the day -, I wonder what made us so different. This is something that I think about often and I worry about it because... I don't like her. I like her, I love her, but I really don't. OK, I still love her. But her personality repels me and at the same time I find myself constantly looking for her approval - which I'm never going to get and even if I did, I wouldn't believe her because as far as I know she lies to everyone -, which is bizarre because she's younger than me.

We have very different experiences of the same family. For one, I was around before the family was formed. Product of my mother's previous marriage, I was there for the courting phase. I did not like my dad all that much at the beginning, and I clearly remember biting him one time when he was tickling me. I must have gotten told off, but I barely remember, what I remember clearly is the terrible feeling of having genuinely hurt him and the chest-crushing love I felt for him then, looking at me, surprised that I bit him, in pain that went beyond the physical.

So my dad won me over in that one clear moment, when he was no longer showing off for my mother, not trying to be fun. Just hurt. I don't know what that says about me.

My sister came along a couple of years later, maybe less than that. The marriage was off to a rocky start and unfortunately remained that way, my dad was too independent for my mother, had a tendency to cheat, and my mother refused to have yet another failed marriage, so. Alex. She was lovely and tiny, I adored her. When she learnt to speak she would mispronounce my name in such a sweet way that when she finally learnt to say it right I missed it.

And then we both grew up. She was in many ways similar to me: opinionated, hard on her judgements, independent. Except. She was like that with everyone. I couldn't be that hard with her. Or my parents. Or my friends. So she's more like a harsher version of me. And maybe also I have gotten softer with time. I don't know. Her experiences of my parents together were completely different from mine and she was definitely more tolerant of my dad's relationship with Bebe from the start - It took me pretty much 15 years or so to get to a point where I liked her and could have conversations with her -, which must mean something, although I don't know what.

And of course I realise that my perspective is flawed because I can only see my sister from my point of view and that definitely limits me, but there isn't much I can do about that. I still don't like it that she thinks of me like a fool because I spent so much time in school, so much time reading, instead of being "out there", "experiencing" life. Which always sounds to me like something someone who was high on mushrooms would say. But, see? I just find it hard to be nice to her because I don't really like her and I'm just all vitriol today.