Big sis: Hey, it’s me again.


Kimiya Factory/The Paisano

Kimiya Factory

We’ve been through a lot; both myself and the weekly readers of this column. Big sis advice is not your average column—I talk about things that most don’t want to discuss. But as I sit here, typing the last article of the semester, feeling the emotional attachment I’ve developed for sharing my thoughts with you every week, it finally dawned on me that you don’t “know-know” me. How ironic, huh? I’ve given you advice on how to stop the perpetuation of rape culture and how to approach the person you’ve had your eye on in class, but you don’t even know my favorite color. Not that you knowing my favorite color matters or makes my advice substantiated; I think I owe it to everyone and myself that you remember Big Sis by who I really am. You didn’t ask but here’s what makes me, me.

I’m not a guru. I don’t have all the answers. I’m human, and I want to remind you of that, so I think you should know:

I tend to bake and clean when I feel like there’s something in my life beyond my control.

I always forget something on the way out the door; seriously, ask my friends.

Driving in the rain makes me nervous.

San Antonio has turned me into a street-taco and mangoñada connoisseur.

I hate giving up—whatever that means.

I took one botany class and became mildly obsessed with plants. I have also come to the conclusion that we don’t deserve them.

It is hard for me to take ‘no’ for an answer.

I’m a hopeless romantic and admire the concept of love.

Some describe me as extra, I’d say I’m just enough.

I’ve never had a vocal-filter—ever.

Favorite colors are overrated—haha trick question.

There, now we’re better acquainted. Thank you for reading my thoughts, thank you for following this column and thank you for giving a damn.

I’m out.

For my humans,

Big Sis.