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Obviously this meant shed been home schooled or locked in a basement for much of her childhood.
Left to right: Domino, Lola, and Jemima Kirke
I embraced their hobbies (lying to our mother and ballet).
I pledged allegiance to their favorite bands (Elvis and Jeff Buckley).
I regurgitated their ideas (tan lines were awful and I was annoying).
Jemima Kirke, Domino Kirke, and Lola Kirke
Not cool as in chill (they are not).
But cool as in beautiful, rebellious, and, when they need to be, icy.
I couldnt wait to grow up and be exactly like them.
Incidentally, my friends couldnt either.
My sisters hand-me-downs were highly coveted by us all.
Vivienne Westwood pirate boots.Betsey Johnsonhot pants.
Shredded vintage T-shirts, complete with holes exactly where your nipples were.
Once the goods made their way to me, Id be drunk with a power I rarely felt otherwise.
In my family, however, between the affairs and addictions, love was often lost.
We all tore the house apart looking for it.
With the freedom to express myself came the freedom to forgive others and even see my part in things.
Perhaps I hadnt felt my sisters affection for me because I hadnt really let them know me.
I seethed with unspoken resentments well into adulthood.
(Why had I spent so many ofmyspring breaks attheirrehabs?!
How come theystilldidnt remember any of my friends names?)
I was a grown woman replete with the same sense of ineffectiveness Id felt as a little girl.
But was it them relegating me to the old role in the family system?
Or had I just been reluctant to grow out of it?
I knew that my writing could be hurtful to them, even if it had been healing for me.
I was the voice of reason in screaming matches.
The champion of the underdog in any fight.
Perfect when they were imperfect, or so I thought.
Now I was the one rocking the boat.
When my parents first read my book, my worries were affirmed.I would have never done that.
What about the good times?
I braced myself as I dialed Jemima.
Itsyourperspective, Lola, she said emphatically after I explained my situation.
You dont have to change it just so it matches someone elses.
You say that now, I sobbed.
But you havent finished the book yet.
once you nail, you might feel differently.
Lola, she replied.
There is nothing you could ever write about me that would change the way I feel.
Wild West Village
Bookshop.org
A few weeks went by.
When I didnt hear from Domino, I assumed more conflict was on the horizon.
Hi, she said.
I just finished your book."
Had I failed to not only see the women, but also the artists that theyd both become?
The shifts in our relationships were subtle but seismic.
On my most recent trip, I didnt just go see Domino.
I ran to her.
When she said yes, I couldnt believe it.
Now she was in the passenger seat of my pickup.
When the conversation shifted to a now-funny memory of her bullying me as a child she suddenly grew serious.
For so long Id felt her impervious to my desired impact.
My face flushed red with shame.
Im so sorry, I said.
For a moment, she was quiet.
Its okay, baby, she said, reaching her hand towards mine.
She had never called me baby before.
We hadnt held hands since she was forced to as a child.
Hang on, she said after a moment, disentangling her fingers from mine.
We stayed that way for a while.
