Sister – resentment
By the time I came back from Tokyo, I had concluded my sister didn’t have a great taste in men. But I also thought no men were that great, and if women were to keep their integrity, they might better remain single.
My sister’s powerlessness embarrassed me, but that wasn’t the reason I started to resent her. It was around this time that her words became acidulous toward me.
I can’t recall specific remarks, but she often teased me in front of people in a humiliating manner. It hurt me when people laughed at me. I asked my sister not to talk about me in such a way, but she’d react angrily, telling me she was telling the truth, and she didn’t know why I had to be upset about it. It was like a situation in which a bully insulted a quiet kid, but he’d claim it was a joke, and the kid shouldn’t have taken it seriously because it was funny to other people. If the kid took it seriously, he was overreacting, and therefore had no sense of humor.
I was the weaker of the two and the quiet one. My sister was the one who attracted people’s attention with her gregariousness, creating the buoyant energy and laughter in the circle. How could I have enough courage to break the smooth flow of energy, as malicious as could have been, by fighting her back?
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