Meeting new people has been harder lately. I incorporate a lot of things from my sister into my life—I have a tattoo in her honor, I wear fingerprint jewelry, I have some of her clothes, and I have things from her throughout my home. I don’t think about it on a daily basis, but I can see how for some people it would seem like a lot.
Recently I invited someone over to my apartment, and the first three things they complimented about my decor all tied back to her. I could feel by the third time I opened my mouth to explain its tie to my sister that it was offputting. I suddenly felt an intense shame about having made someone else uncomfortably by being so honest about the amount of her presence in my surroundings. I should have lied. I should have just said “thank you” and not explained.
This new friend I was trying to make is probably not going to talk to me again, because I made myself “the girl with the dead sister.” Compliment my nail color? “Thanks, it was my sister’s favorite color; I got them in honor of her upcoming birthday.” Compliment my tattoo. “Thanks, it’s in remembrance of my sister.” Compliment an artwork in my apartment. “Thanks, it’s actually a band tee of my sister’s favorite band.” Compliment my kitchen knife display. Dead sister. Compliment cute childhood photo. Dead sister. Dead sister. Dead sister.
What am I supposed to do? When I imagine the interaction all over again and pretend I didn’t mention her, it wrecks me. These ripples of her presence through her things, the gifts to me, or the tributes since then are all I have left. But it also still feels like it’s my job to not make it so fucking unbearable for people around me—especially new people. Do I have to choose between allowing her to exist in the conversational space of my life or not pushing most people away?
Unmoored Sister 