My sister emerges from the dressing room, her smile lighting up the room. Sounds of delight, approval, and awe resonate from the small group that had been waiting. She holds her dress up as she steps up onto the small circular platform in front of the large floor-to-ceiling mirror. The owner of the small boutique adjusts the long veil and train of the white gown. I look to the left at my oldest sister. Teardrops roll down her flushed cheeks, settling in the corners of a large grin directed toward the stunning bride-to-be. I feel as if I am looking at my friend’s sister in a wedding dress, not my own sister. Seeing her in her wedding dress should spark some grand sensation in me, but I feel very out-of-place and emotionally detached from the scene surrounding me.

I thought I would be happier with my family intact, but I am not. Ever since my brother and sisters, who are all more than ten years older than I, went away to college, I have been experiencing a reoccurring cycle. The family would be happy and sound for a time, but a trivial argument or misunderstanding would result in one or all of my siblings completely extracting themselves from the family for months or years at a time. As abruptly as they went, they would return. They would be welcomed back into the family without being asked to give a legitimate explanation or apology for their absences. Sometimes only one of my siblings would go through this cycle and other times all three would. Just as I would start to feel comfortable enough to open my heart to one of my siblings again, that person would vanish out of my life. Eventually, I would come to recognize this pattern and would begin the process of building a protective wall around my emotions. As each person would enter and exit my life, another layer would be added and the wall would become stronger and higher.

I almost wish I were angry or sad or joyful when I am reminded of my siblings, but the wall that has been built casts a shadow upon emotions connected to being a big happy family again. The shadow is not bringing coldness or gloom, but emptiness and numbness. My brother and sisters vow never to leave me again and say that our individual bonds will be strengthened with time. I find myself both unwilling and incapable of believing those two statements. My mind never ceases to remind me of the many times I had worked to repair a relationship that would inevitably be terminated. This leads me to no longer wear my heart on my sleeve or allow them to see me in a vulnerable state. My brother and sisters do not know who I am and vice-versa; I see them more as strangers or acquaintances, rather than family.

A wedding is one of the most important family-centered days of one’s life. On the day of her wedding, I will be the perfect sister and bridesmaid. I will assume all duties without complaint. I will comment on how lovely the service was and how happy I am for the new bride and groom. I will make a proper toast to my sister and new brother-in-law. Most importantly, not one guest will be able to recognize the hollowness beyond the smile painted on the face of the girl walking down the aisle before the bride.