I am the youngest child in my family, and growing up, I never had younger siblings to watch out for. I was always the little sister, the one that my big brothers teased, and taught countless lessons to. I wanted younger siblings, but that wasn’t in the cards for me and my family. So I babysat constantly, loved those kids to pieces, and spoiled them as much as possible.

When I was younger, most of my friends were the youngest children (and only girls) in their families, just like me. However, the older I got, and the more my circle of friends expanded, the more friends I found who had younger siblings — especially younger sisters. I was overjoyed. Over time, they became my baby sisters too.

I watched them grow up, alongside my friends. We had sleepovers with them. We took them shopping. We oohed and ahed over their prom dresses. We prepared to go after any bullies or boys who were mean to them. I felt like their behind-the-scenes sister—cheering them on in all of their endeavors, assuring them that homecoming crowns don’t mean that much, reminding them not to let boys take them for granted, and, probably most importantly, encouraging them to go after their dreams, big and small.

We talk about girl drama, speeding tickets, new movies, and more. And even though these girls are already blessed with awesome older siblings, they accept me as back-up, allowing me even more fully into their families, who I adore.

Although years separate me from these adopted sisters, and despite the fact that we are not related by blood, love fills in these gaps. My friends generously share custody of their younger sisters with me, and I gratefully accept the role of adopted “big sis.”

I am proud of these amazing gals, and enjoy keeping tabs on them as they grow up to be strong, smart, hardworking, beautiful, and amazing young women. I love loving them, along with their siblings, and I feel blessed whenever I get to say, “She’s like my little sister. I’d do anything for her.”

Thanks so much to my friends for sharing their little sisters. Maybe being the youngest child isn’t so bad after all.