I grew up desperately trying to copy just about everything about my two older sisters. Everything they did I wanted to do. Hand-me-downs were anxiously awaited, I’d sneak into their rooms when they were gone to steal clothes or other items to add to my collection, as it meant that I was one step closer to being just like them.

My sisters seem to be getting older but I stay the same age. I’ll always feel like the baby of the family — like I have years of catching up to do. When they were in high school they seemed like full fledged adults to me. Now I’m the one in high school and I still feel like a child. As my own graduation approaches I think back to attending theirs and how I never thought I would look as old as them.

I don’t think my sisters ever meant to make such a great impact on me. I don’t think they knew that they were teaching me to be a thief.

From one I stole my love for denim, music and taste for coffee. From the other I stole my love for thrifting, make-up and art. Slowly I’ve taken bits from their identities and morphed them into my own.

Sometimes I don’t think I am capable of forming an opinion without consulting them. They’ve played an equally large role in raising me as my parents. I never had a babysitter, I just had my sisters. They’ve influenced me in almost every decision I’ve made. In things as small as what shoes to wear to things as big as what high school to go to.

All of my childhood memories involve the three of us causing some sort of trouble. We all sat through each other’s grating middle school band concerts, we all watched each other learn to drive and get our first jobs.

Every step I take in life I know for certain my sisters will be there. They’re with me wherever I go in everything I do. Every step I take in life I know that I’ll always be a part of our little community of family. I don’t know what I would be like if I didn’t have sisters but I know that I am forever grateful that I always will.