My older sister, Danielle, is my best friend. She always has been, and I anticipate she always will be, assuming one of us doesn’t piss the other off beyond hope of reconciliation.
A lot of people have voiced to us how different we are, and we are inclined to agree. Danielle is more reserved and hides her emotions well, whereas I, on the other hand, am anything but reserved and am blunt as hell, and could arguably kill a living creature with my death stare, as my husband likes to call it.
Growing up, Danielle excelled at horseback riding and singing. I played some piano but quickly grew bored with it, and instead took up the most violent game in existence – rugby.
Danielle has a refined sense of humour, whereas mine could rival that of the most vulgar of people.
Danielle rarely swears. I swear more than most.
I think you’re picking up on the pipe I’m laying down with these comparisons.
One of the most apparent differences between us is our appearance. Not only do we not look alike whatsoever, aside from both of us having blonde hair and blue eyes, but our physical statures are quite different. Physically, I take after my mom and have been blessed with a rapid-fire metabolism, meaning I don’t struggle with weight. Danielle, physically, takes after my dad, and she has been extensively bullied in the past for her size.
We recently discovered by comparing our bloodwork results that, despite my sister being bigger than I am, she is a hell of a lot healthier than myself. This discovery reminded me of something I have always believed to be true – being overweight does not automatically mean someone is unhealthy, and as it turns out, Danielle’s organs are in far better shape than my own.
If you were to put my sister and me side-by-side and were asked which one of us is healthier, I wager 99.9% would name me. It is this sort of ignorance that continues to perpetuate the ideology that fatness equates with poor health, when in reality, this perspective is inaccurate and does not apply to everyone.
ontheedgeofeverything 