My Mom, God bless her, is new to the exciting world of the internet & email. She forwards on every single email she receives to me.  Most of them are eye rollingly corny, the type of emails I stopped reading years ago. But earlier this week, she sent me one about sisterhood that got me thinking, I’ve edited it here, don’t want to bore you with some of the gag worthy sentiments, but there was a part of it that struck me:

Sisters are there, no matter how much time and how
many miles are between you. A girl friend is never farther away than needing her can reach.

When you have to walk that lonesome valley and you
have to walk it by yourself, the women in your life
will be on the valley’s rim, cheering you on,
praying for you, pulling for you, intervening on
your behalf, and waiting with open arms at the
valley’s end.

Sometimes, they will even break the rules and walk beside you…Or come in and carry you out.

Girlfriends, daughters, granddaughters,
daughters-in-law, sisters, sisters-in-law, Mothers,
Grandmothers, aunties, nieces, cousins, and extended
family: all bless our life!

The world wouldn’t be the same without women, and
neither would I. When we began this adventure called
womanhood, we had no idea of the incredible joys or
sorrows that lay ahead. Nor did we know how much we
would need each other.

It really got me thinking about the women in my life that I can count on. I think this is complicated further by social media whether it be Twitter, Face Book or blogging, its easy to confuse community with sisterhood. For me, the two are very different things. I may be part of a community but the members of the community are not necessarily my sisters. The ones I have the privilege to call my sisters. The people I can trust with my heart. The people I can be “naked” with, with all of my insecurities exposed. These are the women I can trust with my heart. They’re the ones that would never judge me, as a woman or as a mother. They accept me for who I am, warts and all, with all of my great points and the negative ones too. They embrace me for everything that I am. They don’t say ugly things behind my back, they always have my back.

I’m learning in life that its often easy to misinterpret acquiescence as real, honest, friendship. That when I think about it, really think about it, there few real sisters in my life.  A few sisters who will always have my back. Who will never talk ugly about me. Who love and accept me, unconditionally. Who don’t expect me to conform to their idea’s of what makes a good friend, sister, mother. Who forgive me when if I’ve behaved appallingly. Who know that if I’ve slipped up in some way, it was not with malicious intent.

These sisters may not phone me every week, as I probably don’t phone them every week. We may go a while without speaking but we’re always on each others minds and hearts. One of them is my mother. Another is my cousin. There are a handful of friends I have the honour of calling sister. One has been my sister since we shared a room at college. One is a friend who I met during our infertility walk, both of us blessed at around the same time, with our miracle girls. One of them has always had my back, since we comforted each other during numerous miscarriages. One rejoiced in my miracle babies arrival, while mourning the unbearable loss of her twins. One was a blog reader I met at a support breakfast. I don’t speak to them every day, I don’t speak to them every week. But these are the women I know are my sisters. These are the women who have loved me unconditionally, accepted me for everything I am. These are the women with whom I can be free with, whom I can trust with my insecurities.

These are the women I have the honour of calling my sisters.