I have a complicated relationship with the word sisterhood. It has for sure been a powerful force in my life. But it has also been wielded it by people who maybe claimed it too fast or fickle. Who used the term to wield power over me and my choices. But sisterhood has been most powerful to me when it means you are in. Period. Because you are you and we want you, and we will never not want you. I have some thoughts about the church body and how it is one of the last places we have where we are stuck with people even if we don’t like it and how God uses that to move us. You’ll have to wait for that. Until then this is what I wrote for SheLoves.
It seems my whole world has been formed around sisters. I was born into a team of sisters, a triad. I was the littlest link. The youngest. The baby. It was a position I loved but also fought against.
It is hard to be a “France girl” when you are the “third France girl” and mostly good at the things your sisters are good at. All in the band, in the choir, in the plays. We were sisters. We belonged together. Sometimes that belonging felt like a blanket, thrown over my head without even asking me if I was cold. Sometimes it felt like it didn’t fit. Sometimes I resented just how well it fit. Nobody asked me. It just was.
* * *
In elementary school, at Girl Scout day camp, my mom asked us, “What does ‘sister’ mean?”
We were talking about being a sister to every Girl Scout. I raised my hand confidently. “’Sister’ means you don’t get to choose. It means you are stuck with each other.” Well, my five-year-old self wasn’t a liar. Sisterhood does mean you are stuck with me. And I with you.