The Perfect Sister

Many of you may share my image of the "perfect sister". She understands you intuitively because she had the same parents and shared your childhood. She laughed and cried with you through all your early adventures: family outings and holidays, summers at the beach, shopping expeditions, getting through school, experiments with haircuts and makeup, surviving first loves and losses.

She accepts and supports you even when she would choose a different path. Although you started out as big or the little sister, you evolved into equal friends. She never complains that your parents gave you more and that's why your life turned out better. She is always there for you in moments of crisis, knowing what you need without being told.

She can listen to you without offering advice when you just want a sympathetic ear. She was your ally in childhood who helped you deal with your parents, and later, she was your partner in coping with their illnesses. She gives you what no one else in the world can give you – a lasting connection to your childhood and family. Your sister shares your memories of all the important people and events in your life even after everyone else is gone. She's the one person you have for your entire life.

Some women are actually blessed with that perfect sister, and they can't imagine life without her. But for me, the reality doesn't live up to the ideal. I don't have anything in common with my adult sisters. In fact, as sad and harsh as this may seem, I would pick neither for a friend. I'm not sure why, but we keep experiencing upsetting conflicts and disappointments. I guess I struggle with why my sister relationships don't match my expectations or the "cultural ideal" - but in reality I know that it is my expectations that are the problem.

For some reason, I keep expecting that my sisters and I will have the kind of relationship that would do Pollyanna proud - the kind of relationship that I suggested above. But the reality is that whilst my two younger sisters are very close, I am the odd one out. They phone each other and visit each other regularly and have a close relationship. And this makes me jealous. It makes me sad. I feel excluded. Now, you would think that at my age (44 next month), I would be well and truly over this kind of nonsense, but it hurts ... it really hurts. I understand that I have taken a completely different life path to them both, and I have fundamentally different life philosophies, ideals, values and beliefs. So, yes that sets us apart. As does the fact that geography separates me from them - they live in the same state, whereas I live in a different part of the country and have done so for most of the 27 years since I left home.

But, for some reason instead of accepting that those differences set us apart and accepting that we will never have the close relationship that I crave, I have booked a ticket and a hire car and will be travelling to visit with them next weekend. No doubt there will be "issues" - snide remarks, sideways looks, strongly voiced opinions on my parenting and career choices, whispered conversations just out of earshot - and I will end up in tears and wonder why I keep putting myself in this situation time after time, expecting different results.

I know I need to accept that which I cannot change - and I can in a lot of other areas in my life - but I'm really struggling with this one.