The close-knit relationships I was either born into, created, or developed growing up have given me a strong understanding and gratitude for love — from family, to friends, to family friends. While I meet new people in college whom I’ve grown to love just as equally as the people from my past, I am thankful for all forms of connection in my life. Learning that my relationships at home can withstand distance, because of familial attachments and the intimacy that has developed from experiencing so much of our lives together, is something I cherish deeply.
Starting with my immediate family of four, I’d say we’re all very close — from my younger sister who is both a mini me but also so different from me, to definitely being my mother’s child, to finding a love for my dad’s interests as I’ve gotten older. As I meet new people, I’ve realized how quickly I end up mentioning my sister because of how vital she is to my life. She’s only three years younger than me and as we’ve grown up together, our relationship has evolved to where I feel like before being my sister: she’s my friend.
I see her on the same level as someone my own age, we have conversations about all the parts of our lives, and she’s probably the person who knows me best. High up on that list is also my mom. I look up to how deeply she cares for everyone in her life, from her family and friends to her students. She’s the first person I go to with any serious problem, but she also hears all the trivial drama surrounding me and people in my life she doesn’t even know.
While I don’t really go to my dad with “girl problems,” our relationship is special in the way it’s evolved. I remember thinking I was pretty different from him when I was younger, siding with my mom in preferring relaxing beach vacations to my dad’s road trips to National Parks. I also hated the reggae music he played the entire drive home from San Diego to visit family one year when I was maybe ten. It’s funny because now I wish I had appreciated those outdoorsy trips because I want to go back to places like Yosemite with him. (And I find myself listening to reggae music now and stealing most of my music taste from him).
I also have the privilege of living in such close proximity to my extended family on my mom’s side. My mom, her two sisters and their families, and my grandparents all live within seven miles of each other. My family’s house is less than a mile away from the two cousins my sister and I are closest to (both in age and relationship), and we used to fantasize about digging a tunnel between our houses because of how close they were. One of my cousins, Michela, is only four days older than me and we have gone to school together since preschool (including Berkeley). From frequent family dinners with everyone laughing at my uncles’ jokes while us four younger cousins chat at the kid’s table, to all of the kids making Italian food with our grandma, the close-knit relationship with my extended family is very precious to me. I’m glad I still have a part of that with me at Berkeley in Michela, as we share so much of our lives.
No one knows me without knowing her; I constantly bring her up and don’t know how to refer to our relationship without cutting it short from what it is in its full capacity — being my cousin, lifelong classmate, teammate, roommate, and best friend all wrapped into one. Being in the same family and friend groups, and now going to the same college and cheering together, we’ve known so many different versions of each other, and in growing together we have changed alongside each other. As my (almost) birthday twin who was born in the same hospital room as me, she’s the only friend I can say I’ve known my entire life.
Beyond family, I’m lucky to be part of a group I’d call “family friends,” but it’s not a typical one facilitated by the parents. My three best friends from high school and our sisters lie at its core, (and our parents also found a friendship amongst themselves). With seven kids and seven parents, we’ve somehow turned ourselves into a travel group of people of various ages who go on annual trips to many of the same locations.
From skiing in Mammoth every New Year’s to boating in Catalina every 4th of July, I’ve learned how much better vacations are when they’re spent with the right people. Our annual vacations have taught me it really is the people who make the place. The best moments aren’t always the extravagant planned adventures, but the small things like playing the card game, Phase 10, at dining room tables every time we’re together without fail.
All of these individual relationships and the groups are two things I will forever cherish. Not only am I happy to have people I found, and continue to find, belonging with; but I am incredibly lucky for those people to consist of family, friends, and both wrapped into one.