When I was FOUR, sisterhood was sharing my crayons with the girl in class who didn’t have any.
When I was SEVEN, sisterhood was the friends I jumped rope with at recess.
When I was TEN, sisterhood was the friend who still played with me despite the popular girls thinking I was uncool.
When I was THIRTEEN, sisterhood was keeping my friend’s crush a secret.
When I was SIXTEEN, sisterhood was ex-communicating the boy who broke my friend’s heart.
When I was NINETEEN, sisterhood was the friend who held my hair while I puked after getting too drunk.
When I was TWENTY-TWO, sisterhood was the friend who went all in when I had the ambitious idea of making a short film with no money, gear, or experience.
When I was TWENTY-FIVE, sisterhood was the friend who let me move in with her when I had no place to stay.
When I was TWENTY-EIGHT, sisterhood was when I found out my boyfriend had another girlfriend and we both ditched him and became friends.
When I was THIRTY-ONE, sisterhood was #MeToo.
When I was THIRTY-FOUR, sisterhood was the first female President.
When I was THIRTY-SEVEN, sisterhood was a moratorium on photoshopping women’s bodies.
When I was FORTY, sisterhood was women being paid the same as men for doing the same job.
When I was FORTY-THREE, sisterhood was never being questioned by another woman about why I didn’t have children.
When I was FORTY-SIX, sisterhood was feeling safe to be out alone at night.
When I was FORTY-NINE, sisterhood was worldwide legalization of gay marriage.
When I was FIFTY-TWO, sisterhood was the introduction of the male birth control pill.
When I was FIFTY-FIVE, sisterhood was understanding the forces my mother was up against and letting go of my resentments toward her.
When I was FIFTY-EIGHT, sisterhood was mentoring young writers who were striving to tell women’s stories.
When I was SIXTY-ONE, sisterhood was celebrating the lines that grace the faces of me and my friends.
When I was SIXTY-FOUR, sisterhood was cheering for the women who had found more success than me.
When I was SIXTY-SEVEN, sisterhood was working past retirement age because me and my sisters were boss-ass-bitches who still had work we wanted to do.
When I was SEVENTY, sisterhood was the thing I was most thankful for.
But I’m actually only thirty-two, a time when sisterhood is fighting for autonomy of our bodies, begging that rapists aren’t allotted more rights than women, protesting when babies are stripped away from their mothers who seek asylum, marching against the act of jailing women who have an abortion, and screaming to have our voices heard when another man who has engaged in sexual harassment or assault is put into power.
In 2019, SISTERHOOD is the thing I cling to.