I was only 12 years old when my mom told me, “Act wisely; you are setting an example for your younger sister”. My role model at that time happened to be Saina Nehwal, a badminton player and Olympic medalist. At that point in time, she was most definitely older than 12. Not to mention her long list of achievements, gold-plated medals, and global recognition. So the idea of being a role model myself felt absolutely absurd.
This very phrase, repeated across the years, made me realize how being an elder sister isn’t merely a role you apply for; it is something that is assigned to you early on in your childhood. A role that’s not part-time but somewhat permanent; its responsibilities, though unspoken, change ever so slightly with the passing of time. Growing up, my parents would watch over me with hawk-eyed attentiveness. Even a small misstep, like sleeping half an hour late, eating something outrageously unhealthy, or spending a little too much time outside with my friends, felt heavily scrutinized. I felt pressured to follow everything to the T, where a slight feeling of hesitance or denial would trigger a full-blown argument.Â
What puzzled me was how my younger sister’s endless sleepover and late-night party requests were met with a little more leniency and a little less opposition. In retrospect, being an elder sibling always felt like being held to stricter standards. Recalcitrance, I learnt, is a luxury the youngest can afford much more easily than the eldest.
For a certain time, being an elder sister meant constantly trying to separate identity from responsibility. I felt caught in between “who I am” and “who I’m needed to be”. I felt obligated to carry out certain tasks and inculcate specific habits, not necessarily for myself, but for my sister. This meant going to bed on time, studying regularly, or limiting screen time because “if I do it, my sister will follow too”.Â
These expectations seeped into the smallest moments. Helping your sibling with homework because you are expected to “know better,” and perhaps the worst of them all—being forced to give up the larger half of a delicious slice of chocolate cake.Â
Yet, responsibility wasn’t the only thing that followed me closely. In my childhood, the bond with my younger sister was marked largely by irritation. My younger sister mirrored me in almost everything, from what I ate to where I went and how I behaved. It often felt as though I was being mirrored by a mini version of myself. Although it may seem frivolous, the reason for my agitation wasn’t the imitation itself, but the fear that it would blur the lines between our identities, leaving little room for individuality or authenticity. Only later did I come to understand that younger siblings view their elder ones as their first and most visible reference point, a way to navigate the world around them. In moments when parents aren’t around, elder siblings become emotional anchors, offering a sense of safety and familiarity. Over time, we grew up with minds of our own. My sister and I developed different tastes and styles, forming our own unique and distinctive personalities, as the irritation I initially used to feel gradually faded away.
But being an elder sister isn’t all that bad. Those unspoken responsibilities quietly shaped my personality over time. Somewhere along the way, taking up responsibility became innate rather than being forced upon me. Whether it’s heating up meals, giving my sister medicine when she’s sick, or helping her with academic work, I felt a tiny sense of fulfillment. We no longer fight over food by splitting it with geometric precision. Instead, I find myself giving her the liberty to pick her share first. I also found myself becoming more empathetic. I was able to listen to others with more patience and understanding, give my unsolicited advice to those in need, and resolve fights in a gentler manner. I noticed how deeply reassuring it was to be trusted by someone without hesitation, to share moments of silent understanding with your sibling, and to create a safe space between each other, devoid of any judgment. In those moments, I came to realize that I am no longer a guide, role model, or third parent. I am simply an older sister.