For many years I held the status of being an only child and the personality traits which accompany that still exist within me. I like organization and independence and can turn on my extroversion just long enough before I retreat to my bed and binge watch bad reality TV.
But I always envied the deep relationships I saw women form, especially when it came to sisterhood. There was something so comforting in knowing another human being not only had your back but understood you in your entirety.
I didn’t have enough gusto to join a sorority during my college years (again, recovering only child), but what I did do was stumble upon a co-worker—while slinging baby back ribs at a BBQ restaurant—who seemed familiar and safe and became a good friend.
Fast forward fifteen years later and we are sisters.
I use the term sisters because “friends” feels inadequate at this point. Over the …