You Won’t See My Family Dynamics in a Hallmark Movie

Being estranged from my sister taught me not to take family for granted just because you share DNA

Photo by Neil Smith on Unsplash

I’ve been watching Christmas movies since October, and I’m not ashamed. So far, in my Hallmark and Hallmark-lite marathons, I’ve seen very competitive brothers, will-they-wont-they divorce middle-aged parents, control freak mothers, a long (but ultimately temporary) estrangement between father and daughter, and the ubiquitous trope of a teen blaming mom for dad leaving.

But what I haven’t seen is my own situation, and what a quick Google search or trip through Reddit will show is more common than we are led to believe: estrangement from a sibling, a sister to be precise.

My sister is only nine months older than me, so in theory and on paper we should have been good company for each other, but while that age gap is great from 24 onward, there’s actually a world of difference between ages 4 and 8, and especially the treacherous teen years of 14 and 18. Everyone always says we were so close [annoying!], but that isn’t actually true, it just seemed that way. We had a difficult childhood, so like two animals of the same species in a zoo, we were thrust together because we had a) no choice and b) no one else.

The reality is evident in photos of us in the garden, me crying because she’s pinching me, while she smiles innocently. The reality is the fact that she used to shake me and make me repeat everything she told me! For some reason she has always been the favorite so she could get away with bad behaviour, while I was invisible to everyone. She always made friends more easily than me and charmed the customers at the shop where she worked (while behind the scenes making her colleagues cry!). The reality is that I had no one else, so for too long I let her get away with bad behaviour. She only ever used me as a placeholder, like so many others in my life; I was good enough until something better came along. Emotional incest is usually talked about concerning a parent and child, but it was definitely a part of our dynamic.

I’m not saying I have zero good memories of my time growing up with her, but to be honest they mostly revolve around the loves of my life, acting and writing. We didn’t have a car and we didn’t get a landline phone until I was 13, so we watched a lot of TV and films as kids, and I used to write my own stories based on them for us to act out. So I don’t really remember us just “being” together. I played by myself in the garden a lot, I would ask her questions sometimes and she disappointingly didn’t know the answers, I did my hair up once and instead of seeing it as an opportunity for a bonding experience by telling me she liked it and asking how I did it, she said nothing and just copied the style the next day.

We have quietly floated along for years, in a mostly frictionless way—to the outside world, at least. We’ve lived our whole lives in a small town so people know we’re sisters, and got used to seeing us together. For years I was a devoted auntie so was with her almost every day. In hindsight, if she hadn’t had children our relationship would have ruptured much sooner, but it truly started falling apart at her wedding four years ago.

There are some moments in life that can’t be undone, unseen, unremembered: the drop that spills over the cup, the proverbial straw that breaks the camel’s back. She made me the maid of honor, not because she cares deeply about me, but because she told me she knew I’d be good at organizing her hen night. Then, when a friend of hers decided at the last minute that she wanted to attend the hen night but there wasn’t room for an extra person, I ended up giving up my space so her friend could go.

At the wedding, I dropped off her little one’s bridal shoes, hoping and expecting to have some time with her before the ceremony. But she had a load of her friends there and I didn’t know any of them. It was super awkward, and she didn’t ask them to leave so she could have sister time. We ended up not speaking for the whole day and I left early. That day, she took something from me that day that I can never get back—the experience of being part of my big sister’s wedding—and I don’t forget, and deep down where our hurts fester, behind the locked rooms in our hearts, and inside the boxes in our minds, I don’t forgive either.

Family is important to me, so I used to drop everything when she needed help. I’ve done so much for her and offered her so many second chances. I’ve given so much that now I have nothing left. I wish this could all play out from different parts of the world, but the worst thing is that we live on the same street with only one house in between us! Yet she never visits, and I have to email her to remind her to come in and see our mother (whom I live with and take care of with no help). Anyone who didn’t know us would think we were strangers based on the way we interact (or rather, don’t)..

I hate it when people shrug and say, “You’re family,” as if that’s a magic wand or a Monopoly get-out-of-jail free card. So what? Blood may be thicker than water, but any liquid can be diluted. This is where people usually get it wrong. They seem to think some relationships are a given and take them for granted, but every relationship is a two-way street and requires nurturing to flourish and grow. Love is in communication and the small things, so this holiday season I encourage you to have a proper conversation with your siblings and think of how you can show you care, lest you wind up like me.

Last Christmas Eve, as I caved in yet again and gave my sister a nutcracker, in a Christmas Eve tradition I started for her (naturally she has no such ritual or tradition for me), I told her that if she continued to not put in any effort to fixing us, then our relationship was over. Well, in that almost year she has made even less effort, so this Christmas as I learn to love myself more, I’m finally closing the door on my sister for good. Unless it’s to exchange vital information about my nieces or nephews or mum, I don’t even wish to talk to her anymore. I’m not showing love and respect to me if I can’t uphold my own boundaries or stay true to my words and intentions.

We all make choices, and she has never chosen me, but now, finally, I am. I’m choosing to pay attention to actions, not words, and to not waste time and energy on people who don’t spend time and energy on me. Being a blood relative doesn’t make you exempt from these rules! Toxic and unhealthy people come in all shapes and sizes; we accept and can believe that people, especially, unfairly, men, can be bad parents, so why do we not think that some people are just bad brothers and sisters, instead of the automatic friend-for-life mentality most us seem to have regarding siblings.

This, Christmas I will drop off the kids’ presents at her house sometime before the 25th, and will no doubt be in the kitchen cooking lunch when she finally rolls in to see mum on the big day. I’ll smile into my Buck’s Fizz and enjoy the peace and inner strength that comes from putting yourself first. I love myself indeed.

Megan Romaine is the sole carer to an elderly mother and cat. She has so far been very unlucky in life, but is hoping to finally make 2026 her year. She has had writing published in Hey Young Writer, TYPE!, a bookmark magazine, and recently received an honourable mention from The Dark Poets Club.