Gwen Pederson, Writing Portfolio

I never thought that moving away for college would make me feel closer to my family. It’s funny that distance can do that.

Sometimes living in a house with my parents and little sister, Betty, would just start to feel claustrophobic. There would be too many people with the same routine doing the same thing, when I just wanted to do my own thing. I’ve always liked doing my own thing.

It’s hard to be an original when you have a younger sister. I know Betty has always looked up to me, which is sweet, but sometimes I wish she would just be her own person. When I started listening to rap, she listened to rap; when I asked my parents to put me in piano lessons, she took them too; when I said my favorite restaurant was Olive Garden, suddenly it was hers. She was too young to be listening to rap music and she never liked Italian food until she got older, but if I did it, Betty had to do it too.

It was nice to be away at college where she couldn’t see what I was doing every day. She was forced to become her own person. I liked the person she was becoming.

We would text on occasion, and actually spend time together when I came home for breaks. The first summer break I came home, I remember asking if she wanted to come with me to run errands and get coffee. I could tell she was surprised I even asked. She always thought I was too cool to hang out with her, which I was, but she was starting to become pretty cool too.

We didn’t have much to talk about. We didn’t seem to have as much in common anymore. She asked about college and what I liked most about being away from home. I answered a few of her questions but I felt myself growing annoyed at her for asking. I wanted her to stay her own person. She didn’t need to hear about what I was doing and start to mimic me again. I hated myself for getting annoyed with her, but her questions stopped before I said anything rude.

The rest of the ride was silent, aside from my music playing from the speakers. Betty didn’t sing the words to any of the songs. We didn’t listen to the same music anymore.

The next year I was away we didn’t text as much. Sometimes she would tell me if mom or dad did something ridiculous, as they often do, but she stopped asking me questions. It was nice she no longer needed my guidance to live.

The next summer I was home, Betty had her door closed a lot. She would be listening to music I didn’t recognize. I was happy she was able to find music of her own to enjoy. Though, a part of me missed recognizing the words of the songs.

The next summer was pretty much the same. Betty would come with me to run errands or get coffee, and it was nice spending time with her. She didn’t seem surprised when I asked her to come anymore. She knew we could hang out together now. She also stopped asking me questions, which was nice. I could no longer get upset at her questioning or feel like she was trying to learn who she should be. She was who she should be.

My senior year of college I found myself missing her texts. I would get excited when I saw her name pop up on my phone screen. It didn’t happen very often anymore. I found myself missing my shadow. I missed having someone to talk with about music we both loved. I missed having the same favorite restaurant, even if may not have been hers. I even missed the annoying questioning.

Being away from home for so long really made me miss everything I grew up with. I don’t think I care as much about being an original. I’m still happy for Betty for finding her own voice and herself, but I still want to be a part of her. We’re only going to get further apart as time goes on, and I always want to feel close to her.

When I came home that summer after I graduated, I asked Betty if she wanted to get coffee with me, but she said she had plans. I told her she should listen to the new Taylor Swift album I had been listening to, but she said that wasn’t really her taste of music. I think she was too cool for me now.

It was Betty’s turn to leave for college after that summer. We didn’t really hang out at all. She hugged me and told me she would miss me when we dropped her off at the airport. I couldn’t tell if that was true.

I was the one who would send her texts about our parents doing something ridiculous. I found myself asking if she was enjoying college and what her favorite part about being away from home was. She would answer all my questions, but our conversations never went on for too long.

I wonder if she felt closer to us now that she moved so far away.

When Betty came home that summer, she left her door open. I could hear her listening to the Taylor Swift album I suggested. We both knew all the words.

She asked me if I wanted to hang out with her. I asked if she wanted to get coffee.

“Do you think we could go to Olive Garden?”