While I have a healthy relationship with all my siblings, the bond I’ve shared with my oldest sister is the strongest. We are very much alike when it comes to personalities, sensitive nature, and looks, having both favored our father. We are six years apart in age, which when growing up as kids, felt like light years apart to me. Nevertheless, she made time for me, even taking the training wheels off my bike when I was eight (yeah, late bloomer here) and taught me how to ride. I’ve been peddling ever since, yet occasionally in circles. Last week was one of those weeks.
My wife and I had previously theorized that she would be a person to tell, yet I didn’t want to burden her or potentially embarrass myself. My sister has known for many years that I was hiding something, but some time ago she gave up wondering. She came to the conclusion that there wasn’t anything I could be keeping to myself that would make her think less of me, or love me less. I knew deep down that was the case. While I don’t differentiate between my perceived masculine and feminine sides, as I'm one in the same, I had hid an essential part of who I am from her for far too long.
She was sorry that I felt the need for secrecy from most everyone and wished I had told her long ago. She was happy that I had found acceptance from my wife, which gave her a whole new appreciation of someone she adored the first time they met. Somewhere in the midst of telling her about Kim, she decisively stated she wanted to meet Kim next time she visited and go out. We are fortunate to see each other only once a year, as life obligations and a thousand miles of land separate us, but I’ve never felt closer.
I should’ve known better and trust the one that took my training wheels off 45 years ago. Kim