Anyone who has a sister has a sister story&amp;#8212;one of love, jealousy, camaraderie, misunderstanding or even betrayal. Why all the drama? She holds a Ph.D. in What Makes You Tick, and her insider knowledge can bring out your best, your worst, your most honest and, yes, your most movie-of-the-week-worthy self. Sure, you may look different&amp;#8212;my sister, Cathy, has saucer eyes (our great aunt&amp;#39;s) while I have almond-shaped ones (our dad&amp;#39;s)&amp;#8212;but the similarities in our body language, our laughter and our voices (I can&amp;#39;t tell hers from mine on an answering machine) are so strong that we&amp;#39;ve been asked if we&amp;#39;re twins.
I would&amp;#39;ve done anything to actually be Cathy&amp;#39;s twin, but I was five years younger and more like her shadow, following her everywhere, until one day I didn&amp;#39;t want to be exactly like her anymore. That was the day I watched a preacher dunk her in a swimming pool and declare her born-again at the age of 17. She had fallen in love with a devout Christian boy and along the way fallen in love with religion, too. At her baptism, a crowd of strangers yelled words of praise while my nonchurchgoing parents and I hung back, complete outsiders. My alienation from Cathy got worse when I tried to talk to her about her beliefs. When I asked if she thought I would go to hell because I didn&amp;#39;t follow the Bible, she quietly answered, &amp;quot;Yes.&amp;quot;
That was the last time, until just a few weeks ago, that I can recall asking my sister anything about her spiritual life. For more than 20 years, we managed to avoid discussion of the most important difference between us, talking instead about &amp;quot;safe&amp;quot; things: relationships, children, friends, homes, cooking.
For Cathy and me, conflict avoidance served its purpose when we were young and hotheaded, but more recently I&amp;#39;ve been troubled by the hollow corners of our relationship. I&amp;#39;ve wanted to know her better, to acknowledge the uncomfortable stuff, but I needed a little courage. This past month, having just spent a number of days interviewing the amazing women who tell their stories on these pages&amp;#8212;all sisters who weathered incredibly tough times with their own siblings&amp;#8212;I finally had my heart-to-heart with Cathy. We were out for a run (striding at the exact same pace, as always), and I just blurted it all out&amp;#8212;how I sometimes felt judged by her; how I missed the closeness we&amp;#39;d shared as kids; how sorry I was that I&amp;#39;d stopped confiding in her….
Cath slowed to a walk. &amp;quot;I&amp;#39;m so glad you&amp;#39;re bringing this up,&amp;quot; she said. And just like that, we were opening up about everything. A lot was said, all of it with kindness and carefulness. She told me she felt she embarrassed me when she talked about God, so she&amp;#39;d stopped; I said she was right&amp;#8212;it used to make me uncomfortable when she&amp;#39;d tell me she prayed for me, but deep down I was touched by it. I told her I believed I&amp;#39;d embarrassed her when I cofounded a website about sex and relationships; she said I was wrong&amp;#8212;she was always proud of me, even if she didn&amp;#39;t always feel comfortable reading my stories. Then I confessed that I&amp;#39;d been wondering for decades if she really thought I, her own sis, would someday go to hell.
&amp;quot;Of course not!&amp;quot; Cath said. &amp;quot;I&amp;#39;m so sorry I said that to you. What an awful thing to tell someone. I&amp;#39;ve mellowed since then. I no longer think I have all the answers.&amp;quot;
&amp;quot;But isn&amp;#39;t that what your church believes?&amp;quot; I asked. &amp;quot;Can you really make an exception for me?&amp;quot;
After a long pause, Cathy said, &amp;quot;No, I guess I can&amp;#39;t. I was just trying to make you feel better.&amp;quot; She smiled, and I did too. &amp;quot;But you never know,&amp;quot; Cathy went on. &amp;quot;It&amp;#39;s never too late.&amp;quot;
My sister will always hold out hope that I&amp;#39;ll find religion, and while that used to anger me, now I&amp;#39;m OK with it. After all, I don&amp;#39;t know what mysteries are waiting for me. And in spite of Cathy&amp;#39;s unchanging verdict on my spirituality, I liked her answer to the heaven-hell question a lot better this time around. She&amp;#39;d acknowledged the hurtfulness of her opinion, yet decided not to tell me a lie to smooth it all over. It was the beginning of a new chapter for us, and we marked it by racing to the front door like kids.
Read these stories of sibling loyalty and rivalry &amp;gt;