My Very Own Doctor Phil

I would like to take a moment to give a shout-out to my sister.

(I will be referring to her as "Stella," not only because it seems like a very Shakespeare-esque name, but also because my sister has wanted to be called Stella all of her life. I'm making your dream come true, sis, via the World Wide Web. You can thank me later.)

Stella is 17 months younger than me, but she is much, much wiser than me. And this comes as no surprise. All throughout our childhood, it was always like she was the older sister. Mainly because she was loud and boisterous and I was quiet as a mouse. Stella always just took the lead, and I willingly followed. It was a good partnership, although now I'm thinking she got the better end of the deal.

Maybe it's because we're so close in age, or because we shared a room until I went to college, or because we just plain like each other, but Stella and I are—and always have been—very best friends. I can truly say she is my other half. Where I am weak, she is strong, and vice versa. I have book smarts, she has people smarts. I'm a girly girl, she's a tomboy. She's really funny, I'm really good at laughing at her jokes... You get the picture.

Stella lives far away, and has for years. But she and I still talk on the phone at least twice a week. I'm not a big fan of talking on the phone, but I could easily talk to Stella for hours. We always find things to chat about, and at one point or another, our conversation typically lands on boy talk. We fill each other in on our latest crush or boyfriend, and we offer each other advice when needed.

Stella gives the best advice ever. I should pay her for the counseling she gives me. Seriously. First of all, she can read people like a book, and me being her sister, she can read me like a... well, like a really easy book. When I tell her about a struggle I'm having, she can usually pinpoint exactly why it's happening. Then she offers a solution that is so simple, so to-the-point, that I always walk away thinking, "Why didn't I think of that?"

Sometimes I feel guilty that the guidance I offer Stella doesn't even come close to what she does for me. It seems like I'm receiving more so than I'm giving. But the honest truth is, I would give Stella my kidney if she ever needed it—heck, I'd give her all of my major organs. So hopefully (and heaven forbid), if that need ever presented itself, the give-and-take scale would be evened out, and Stella would finally learn how much she really means to me.

I hope that all of you have a Stella in your life. Someone who will listen to your crap, who will bring you back to reality when you need it, and who makes you feel like your load has lightened after talking to them. If you do have such a person, go and thank them right now. If you don't have one, I'll let you borrow mine.

You don't mind, right Stella?

Oh, and Stella?

Thank you.