How It Feels When Your Sister Is Prettier Than You


My little sister is the star of the family. Everything she does is perfect. It doesn’t matter that my GPA is higher than hers, or that what I want to do with my life involves saving the world as opposed to informing it of the latest fashion trends. She is the prettier sister, the wittier sister, and the more flexible sister. She’s all I hear about from my family. How great she is, how photogenic she, how all of the boys just stare at her all of the time. No one talks about me that way. But let me ask you this. Who cares?!

Sure maybe my awkward stage lasted from 7th grade all the way until my senior year of high school, and sure, maybe my anxiety causes me to be incredibly straight laced, and to like doing things a certain way, but am I any less valuable because of it?

Why should I be made to feel lesser and not as loved as she does just because I wasn’t kissed until my junior year of high school while she lost her virginity at the same age. I’ve brought this up to my parents, but they don’t get it. “We treat you both the same and we love you both the same amount”. Maybe so, but it’s much more obvious with her than it is with me.

You know who wasn’t pretty? Eleanor Roosevelt. She was so ugly that her mother, who was a beautiful woman for her time, was ashamed of her daughter’s looks and called her “Granny”. But in spite of that, Eleanor Roosevelt went on to do amazing things.

She was an advocate, an ally who stood up for herself and for what she believed in. When FDR was diagnosed with polio and paralyzed from the waist down, she took it upon herself to go and visit other countries, keeping our international affairs in check.

She wasn’t pretty, but she was a star. I’m going to be an Eleanor Roosevelt. No matter how much I try to fix my hair, or do my makeup in a way that will accent my features, it won’t work. My sister always comes out looking better. But it’s okay.

It’s okay, because one day, I am going to change the world. One day, I will be appreciated for who I am and how I live my life. I’m not sure when that day will be. And it seems farther away than ever, but one day, I will be appreciated for me.

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