When I first heard the song “We Are Family” in 1979, I desperately wanted to morph into one of the four Sledge sisters.
The band Sister Sledge made sisterhood look absolutely exuberant. In their sparkly red disco garb, they sang about being birds of a feather who flocked together. Twirling around, hands in the air, they proclaimed that they never got depressed. The love of their sisters kept their spirits high.
Why, oh why couldn’t I be so lucky?
Instead of being blessed with a gaggle of same-sex siblings, I’d ended up with a single older brother. Neither he nor my dog Sherry (the closest I had to a sister) could answer burning questions like “What’s the difference between tampons and sanitary napkins?” and “Does sex hurt?”
Finally, I wised up. If the gods didn’t give me sisters, well, then I’d just have to make them myself. I’d turn special friends into surrogate sisters. These special people are often called “chosen” family. However, asking favors of friends usually reserved for relatives can be tricky.
Take for example, the occasion of needing someone to watch your firstborn while you’re giving birth to your second child. Usually the mom-to-be has her own parents or siblings do the job.
My parents, though, spent the winter in Florida and didn’t offer to come north. Should I beg them to do something I knew they didn’t want to do? Should I ask Fred to stay home with our daughter instead of coming to the hospital with me? Or should I reach out to a friend?
I chose the friend option, with mixed results. The first friend I asked agreed to watch Amanda, but, with two young children of her own, she called a few hours later for us to come and get our 3-year-old.
All this happened while I was screaming bloody murder from the pain of childbirth. Fred called our friend Sandy, who proved to be a much better choice. Even though she too had two children of her own, they were a little older. That’s the day Sandy became like a sister to me.
If, like me, you have children or siblings who live far away, you, too, can take a weight off their shoulders by cobbling together a network for help and support. This isn’t a phenomenon restricted to women. Some men I know have friends they think of as brothers.
My co-author Ann doubles as my “soul sister.” As freelancers, we lack a traditional work family but share a passion for writing, which feeds our souls. I’ve developed other soul siblings from my interests in food, writing and books.
Cousins add a nice touch of blood connection to a chosen family. Cousin Caryl, whom I met late in life, has turned out to be the big sister I always wanted but never had. Because she and I grew up in different households, we lack the kind of sibling rivalry that can come from being pigeonholed as the smart sister or the pretty one.
Even the seemingly inseparable Sledge sisters had their ups and downs. After the youngest, Kathy, made her own solo album, her sisters kicked her out of the band. Eventually the siblings mended fences. Still, it’s always easier to show harmony in a music video than in real life.
Because everyone has other commitments, it’s best to cobble together as wide a support network as possible. One technique I’ve used successfully is to promote acquaintances to friends.
Acquaintances are those people whose company I enjoy when we run into each other, but with whom I rarely make plans. That changed, though, as I approached widowhood. Feeling a gaping hole from my loss of Fred, I decided to enlarge my social circle.
Promoting an acquaintance to friend is basically a form of courtship. I reached out to a divorcee down the street by inviting her for coffee or tea. Before long, we exchanged contact information, and chance meetings give way to honest-to-goodness plans.
Just because you’re wooing an acquaintance doesn’t mean you can’t also look for a new friend from scratch. Nothing need be mutually exclusive. Maybe, by taking a class or joining a group, you’ll find a kindred spirit or two who shares the same needs as you. Similarly, you can be close to your own blood relatives while also seeking out “chosen siblings.”
Maybe we can even start seeing everyone in the world as our sisters and brothers. That is certainly not a novel idea. We don’t even need to wear spandex disco pants to make it happen.
Joan Axelrod-Contrada is a writer who lives in Florence. She writes a monthly column for the Gazette, Only Human, that runs on the second Friday of the month. Reach her at joanaxelrodcontrada@gmail.com.