I have the rare fortune of having soul sisters. Friendships that have blossomed into sisterhood. These kinds of sisters are a beautiful thing, each play a different role in my life and me in theirs. Some I call on when I’m angry at the world, some I run to when I’m wondering about the heavens, some I trust to tell me that I have spinach in my teeth, some call me out on being lazy but quickly follow it up with a ‘love you’ and some call me at 3am to give me all the details of their last date. My soul sisters are the ones that have become family, the ones I have so much in common with that sometimes people confuse us for each other.

But. I only have one. blood. sister.


A couple years ago, someone asked the two of us “ If you weren’t sisters, would you have been friends?”.

We both looked at each other and laughed, and together said ‘No’.

Of two sisters one is always the watcher, one the dancer.
— Louise Glück

You see, my sister and I could not be more different. And the thought of us, finding each other all on our own in this big big world, living life in such different ways seems like a fair impossibility.

Would the girl who is the life of the party (her) and the one who often comes a little late so she can slip in and have deep conversation in the corner (me) have met at that party?


Would the girl who likes rom coms ( me) and the one who loves action and dinosaurs and sci-fi (her) stepped into the same movie theatre?

Well maybe in college….the girl who often skipped class to hang under blossomed trees with friends (her) and the one who never missed class even when she was sick (me)- maybe they would have bumped into each other on a Tuesday after assembly? Probably not.

When I play out scenarios of life, I just don’t think we would have stumbled into each other. She breathes in dancing, I breathe in watching , she would cake hop to find the perfect chocolate cake, I take delight in spending hours in the kitchen, making cake from scratch.


She shows people she loves them in action. I show people I love them in words.

She is all grit and gumption. I am a little more cautious and steady.

She is exciting and fast paced and in all honesty, everything that I am not, but hope to be.


And so, yea, we probably wouldn’t have met. And even if we did, I probably would have told her I loved her too many times, and she would have rolled her eyes.

Life is funny that way. God is gracious that way.

Although we would not have met, if left up to our own doing, life itself brought us together.

I love the idea that our relationship was too important to let fate decide the outcome of it. We were meant to be sisters, and God couldn’t take any chances on us finding one another on our own.

No, this sisterhood was too important

too imperative

too divine

to be left to chance. It needed to be sealed with blood.

Almost like a sacred covenant. A pact of staying true beyond our differences or beyond distance.

She is mine and I am hers. Sisters for life.

And in this sisterhood, we don’t pinky swear our promises. We chocolate swear our promises.

Picture this. Bahrain, 1994.

“Don’t tell mom and dad ok, Ria? What chocolate do you want? “

“ Bounty”

“ Eww, why would you have Bounty when you can have Aero. But okay, here you go. Have what makes you happy”

“ But can I have one bite from yours?”

“ Oh my goshhhh, fine. But remember, this is our secret. Promise?”

“ Promise”

1994 to forever, I promise. Chocolate swear. Sister swear. Cross my heart and hope to dance. Just like you.