Home » A Wasted Life » About This Woman I Call My REAL Big Sister

About This Woman I Call My REAL Big Sister

There is a woman in my life that I call my REAL big sister.  She is everything anybody could ever want in a sister and she is everything anybody could ever want in a friend.  I call her my RBS.
She protects me with the fierceness of a mother lioness.  She supports me with the staunchness of a concrete pillar that will not bend, break or sway.
She has a kindness in her face that is immediately detectable to everybody she meets.  She has rich, dark ebony hair and eyes that almost dance when she smiles.  She has an infectious giggle that helps me remember how a laugh used to sound.  If I can manage a laugh now and then, I can hear the joy in her heart.
She calls me “honey” and it touches me because I know it is genuine.
She has never dismissed my values as being “puritan” but rather respects and applauds them.
She tempers my anger when I’m talking about things that Loser and other people have said and done, by assigning deliciously insulting monikers to them, exactly the way a sister would and should.
My RBS will spend her entire day taking people to doctors’ appointments and acts as though it was as common as answering the telephone.  She is the kind of person who would come to your rescue without being asked.  She is so unassuming that I don’t think she could even come close to realizing the impact she has on other peoples’ lives…especially mine.
She is loving and giving and feels my pain as if it were it were her own.  She is a mentor and a confidant and I have no doubt that she would take a bullet for me.  I have no doubt that she would let herself be crucified before she would betray anybodys’ trust…especially mine.
She has walked with me through the darkest days of my life, covering me with an invisible cloak of tenderness and has never callously told me to “get over it.”  She has never tired of listening to the months and years of the endless grief that I have shared with her.  She has cried and ached with me and for me.
She talks softly to me when I’m sad or upset…not because she thinks I’m fragile or need to be placated…but because she has an inherent, caring nature.
Even though we live on opposite sides of the geographical continent, I can feel her arms around me.
She is a true gift that was sent to me from the angels.  She is a priceless, one-of-a-kind treasure.
I have two biological sisters but I had never known what a REAL sister was, until I met my RBS.
Those of you out there who have been blessed with the gift of a big sister will understand what I mean when I say, there is nothing that can compare to the love of a REAL big sister.

12 thoughts on “About This Woman I Call My REAL Big Sister

  1. You’re… you’re my real Momma. You help me see that it’s ok to give the middle finger to so many things in life. You are wonderful. I’m starting at the beginning of your blog again because it’s been a long time since I read your story. I need it a bit.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks sweetie. I’ve deleted a bunch of my posts and quite a few stories. After I put almost everything in the book, I just took it off WP.
      And yes…I finally decided that it was okay to get rid of the poison that haunts me.
      I haven’t even posted about the last year or two…Geeze. Talk about being treated like you don’t matter. 😔


      • Momma. I know you let it get deep in your bones. But you’ve been passed from one set of narc hands to the next. And internalized their evil message. And loser fed that message to the kids in a destructive way. I’m so happy you are here and with me, but I wish I could undo some of the damage. You’re a beautiful soul, in spite of all the damage over all the years.


        • I know. I need to accept one truth, and that is that the people who are supposed to care the most about me, care the least. No one is allowed to be sad or depressed and being a lying, cheating, disease-giving scumbag who picks someone up in a bar and starts a new life with them doesn’t matter, because everyone wants them to be happy. YAY!


          • You matter. Maybe not as much to people who were damaged by loser. He raised them to be broken. He took them in and fucked their brains up just like he did yours, in a different way. You’re insanely amazing and I wish I could be with you and show you a bit


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