We grew up as the children of immigrants in a country that really hates us. We're both trans and queer, probably neurodivergent, but our family treats us very differently. My family never treated me seriously because they figured my academic performance only outpaced my sister because I'm older. They never said it out loud, but I know they also wanted her to be better than me because she was the boy and would be the man of the household. They still loved us but they constantly pit us against each other for no reason other than we didn't meet gender expectations.

Alongside that, we were also pretty neglected. Our immigrant family was always busy with one problem or the next and me and my sisters emotional needs were at the bottom of the to do list. True to their gender expectations, us kids were always around the women in my family so they could take care of us. When I got a bit older, it became clear I had to take care of her because I was older and I was a girl and she was a boy.

I resented my sister for a very long time. It wasn't her fault but I felt like she was getting all her needs met while I couldn't ask for anything. She would always ask me for things and I always picked up the slack because I knew if any problems happened, it would be my fault. O was basically her babysitter, even though I was only two years older.

Fast forward to winter break of my third year of college. My sister and I are older now, and we kind of realized all the bullshit our family does. I no longer resent her, and she actually gives me really good advice. She's funny, kind, and smart and even though I nag her a lot, it's because I want her to live a happy and fulfilling life. We're at the dinner table having full meals at 2 am (we've always gotten hungry at the same time) and sitting watching our respective YouTube videos. The concept of gender came up and i told her that I'm agender, and had never felt like a woman. At the minimum, I was uncomfortable being perceived as one because of the roles that had been assigned to me because of it. She told me that she was sorry that had happened, but that actually, she was trans too. She said she'd been surrounded by women her entire life, and she never felt like she belonged with the men in our family. The thing is, she phrased it like this, "Mom, grandma and you raised me" before this, I'd never heard her acknowledge that I played a caretaking role in her life. I laughed and told her we were a pair of slurs because our family pushed us so hard we ended up switching spots. She laughed too and we moved on but later that night I thought about what she said and started crying. It healed a part of me because she recognized I sacrificed some of my childhood to preserve hers. We'd never spoken about it before, but just her recognizing that it happened and that it played a role in her life was enough for me. My family loves to pretend it never happened and that my childhood was perfect. She never pretends it was and now she helps me when the trauma hits a little too hard.

I don't know if I'd still even be alive if it weren't for that memory. True to form, we never talk about it. I love her, she loves me, and we know that. I don't know if I'll ever tell her any of this, but she is truly one of the most important people in my life and I can't imagine a world without her.