naudiz
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 27, 2000
- Posts
- 2,942
I don't know why this story has been occupying my mind so much lately, but this is one of life's little lessons I've learned along the way.
I have a cousin who is a few years younger than I am. We're the only two females in the batch, so there aren't any others to line up for comparison. She's blonde, petite, drop-dead gorgeous, with a bubbly personality that just lights up a room. In my family, everyone adores her. My own parents have commented before that they wish she was their daughter instead of me. Yes, it's a cruel thing to say, but that's life.
Even before the illness, I was bulky compared to her. I was heavily into martial arts and working out, and I had a muscular build that wasn't exactly feminine. I'm dark haired, with sharper features, blunt mannerisms, and no talent for social chatter. In short, I've always been the wicked stepsister to her Cinderella except that I didn't hate her. I couldn't hate her. She's such a sweet girl that hating her would be like stomping on kittens. I'm just not that evil. Even though I didn't hate her, I was seethingly jealous. The nicer she was, the more bitter I became. I dreaded going places with her, because all the guys would wolf-whistle and hit on her and totally ignore me. At family gatherings, she would be fawned over while I was more or less left alone.
A few years ago, she and I were on a road trip. Angel of mercy that she is, she was getting me away from my folks after another round of 'why can't you be more like your cousin' that had put me in a foul mood. As she was driving and I was staring sullenly out the window, she said out of the blue that she always wished she could be more like me. I asked if she was insane or what, and she insisted that she had always secretly admired how strong, intelligent, formidable, and beautiful I was. She went on to say that she didn't like the attention she got, because all the guys who hit on her didn't give a damn about her mind, and that at least the men I did attract were looking for substance.
I guess the moral of this story is that the grass really is greener on the other side of the fence. I stopped being jealous. There was no reason to be, because she and I are equals even though we're not the same. Instead of being rivals we became allies. She helped me handle my parents through some rough patches, and I chased off the deadbeat slime that would try to take advantage of her kindness. Even though we've fallen out of touch in recent months, every time my parents give me the news of her latest opportunity or triumph, instead of bristling, I'm damned proud. She's a sweetheart, and she deserves only the best.
Maybe this is just leftover sap from the Christmas holiday. I get pretty goofy around this time of year. Anyone else have a happy story? I could use one after all the serious vs. silly ickiness.
I have a cousin who is a few years younger than I am. We're the only two females in the batch, so there aren't any others to line up for comparison. She's blonde, petite, drop-dead gorgeous, with a bubbly personality that just lights up a room. In my family, everyone adores her. My own parents have commented before that they wish she was their daughter instead of me. Yes, it's a cruel thing to say, but that's life.
Even before the illness, I was bulky compared to her. I was heavily into martial arts and working out, and I had a muscular build that wasn't exactly feminine. I'm dark haired, with sharper features, blunt mannerisms, and no talent for social chatter. In short, I've always been the wicked stepsister to her Cinderella except that I didn't hate her. I couldn't hate her. She's such a sweet girl that hating her would be like stomping on kittens. I'm just not that evil. Even though I didn't hate her, I was seethingly jealous. The nicer she was, the more bitter I became. I dreaded going places with her, because all the guys would wolf-whistle and hit on her and totally ignore me. At family gatherings, she would be fawned over while I was more or less left alone.
A few years ago, she and I were on a road trip. Angel of mercy that she is, she was getting me away from my folks after another round of 'why can't you be more like your cousin' that had put me in a foul mood. As she was driving and I was staring sullenly out the window, she said out of the blue that she always wished she could be more like me. I asked if she was insane or what, and she insisted that she had always secretly admired how strong, intelligent, formidable, and beautiful I was. She went on to say that she didn't like the attention she got, because all the guys who hit on her didn't give a damn about her mind, and that at least the men I did attract were looking for substance.
I guess the moral of this story is that the grass really is greener on the other side of the fence. I stopped being jealous. There was no reason to be, because she and I are equals even though we're not the same. Instead of being rivals we became allies. She helped me handle my parents through some rough patches, and I chased off the deadbeat slime that would try to take advantage of her kindness. Even though we've fallen out of touch in recent months, every time my parents give me the news of her latest opportunity or triumph, instead of bristling, I'm damned proud. She's a sweetheart, and she deserves only the best.
Maybe this is just leftover sap from the Christmas holiday. I get pretty goofy around this time of year. Anyone else have a happy story? I could use one after all the serious vs. silly ickiness.
