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But as always, she didn't understand. None of my family has ever really understood me. I've never fit my family's idea of the way I should live my life. England was not exciting enough. I wanted to go somewhere and experience something different. My soul has always been restless to venture into unknown places. My mother has always said that I have "gypsy" in my blood.
My sister and I are three and a half years apart in age, but a world apart in the way we live our lives. She is conservative and quiet. I take too many risks, and the only time I'm really quiet is when I'm asleep. I've spent most of my adult life apologizing to my sister and the rest of my family for being different, for embarrassing them by something I wear, something I do or something I say.
Since my sister is so different from me—or since I'm so different from her—we aren't very close. The older we get, the busier we become, and the less we see of each other, even though we live only half a mile apart.
