If you ever want proof that the ancient Greek gods are still alive and well, don\u2019t bother with temples. Just come meet my family. <\/p>\n
I grew up the child of Greek immigrant parents who were determined to \u201cbecome English.\u201d Unfortunately, my mother\u2019s attempts at assimilation were the kind you could only describe as heroic failures. She forgot school trips, sent us to school in the wrong attire, and packed lunches so catastrophically un-English that other children stared as though we\u2019d brought offerings for Zeus. <\/p>\n
But if my mother\u2019s Englishification campaign was tragic, our looks were pure comedy. Let\u2019s just say the Greek gods\u2014those vengeful little pranksters\u2014were not generous in the beauty department. <\/p>\n
The Sisters: A Catalogue of Divine Cruelty <\/strong><\/p>\n Meanwhile, puberty arrived, and with it, the gods\u2019 laughter echoed louder. Noses grew larger, hips wider, and the mirror became the cruelest mythological creature of all. <\/p>\n The Exile to Cyprus<\/p>\n <\/strong> On my middle sister\u2019s 15th birthday, my parents decided she required sun therapy. Yes, apparently the Mediterranean sun was going to fix both her complexion and her chances of marriage. Off she went with my mother for a seven-week holiday in Cyprus, while my elder sister, my father, and I stayed behind, stewing in the unfairness and bribing ourselves with chips and Cadbury\u2019s. <\/p>\n \u201cWhy does she get to go?\u201d we demanded. The Airport Revelation<\/strong> <\/p>\n Weeks passed, and finally, the day of their return arrived. Birmingham Airport buzzed with Cypriots hauling enough luggage to repopulate a small village. We waited. And then we saw her. <\/p>\n First, my mother appeared, dragging suitcases clearly stuffed with half the Greek grocery store. But behind her\u2014behind her floated a vision. <\/p>\n A goddess. And then\u2014my brain froze. The fat, awkward, bowling-ball-faced sister had returned transformed into a Helen of Troy knock-off, a Miss Cyprus in training, sashaying through Birmingham like she was auditioning for a Bond film. <\/p>\n Even the Greek girls chewing gum in the corner looked like livestock compared to her, as if someone had dragged them straight from their grandfathers\u2019 allotments. The contrast was biblical. <\/p>\n The Final Insult<\/strong> <\/p>\n My mother, naturally, basked in reflected glory. After years of defending her daughter\u2019s marriage prospects, she suddenly acted like she had raised Aphrodite herself. \u201cSee? I told you. She just needed the sun,\u201d she beamed, as if UV rays were plastic surgeons.<\/p>\n And there I stood, with my elder sister and father, watching men salivate over our once-mockable sibling. All I could think was: the Greek gods are the biggest trolls in history. <\/p>\n How My Ugly Greek Sister Returned From Cyprus as Aphrodite and Ruined My Life<\/strong> <\/p>\n From that moment on, my life was ruined. No longer could I call her \u201cMiss Greek Nose\u201d or \u201cFatty Feta.\u201d Overnight, she became the hot Greek queen\u2014the goddess, the one the whole community whispered about at church coffee mornings. <\/p>\n Our parents paraded her like a trophy. She acquired an attitude to match her designer clothes, while we, the unfavoured siblings, were left to deal with her hand-me-downs and reheated spanakopita. She dined in \u201cspecial restaurants\u201d where even the waiters worshipped her, while we weren\u2019t seen in public until\u2014my mother prayed\u2014our own miraculous transformations would arrive. <\/p>\n Spoiler alert: they didn\u2019t. <\/p>\n Instead, we remained the unblessed ones, the comic relief in the Greek tragedy that was our family dynamic. She was Aphrodite. We were the goats chewing gum by the allotments. \ufe0f<\/p>\n LOVE BY OPA OPA<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":24,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","class_list":["post-10207","rtcl_listing","type-rtcl_listing","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","rtcl_category-influencers","listing-item","rtcl-listing-item"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/marketplace28.store\/el\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/rtcl_listing\/10207","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/marketplace28.store\/el\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/rtcl_listing"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/marketplace28.store\/el\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/rtcl_listing"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/marketplace28.store\/el\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/24"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/marketplace28.store\/el\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10207"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/marketplace28.store\/el\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/rtcl_listing\/10207\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10216,"href":"https:\/\/marketplace28.store\/el\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/rtcl_listing\/10207\/revisions\/10216"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/marketplace28.store\/el\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/10208"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/marketplace28.store\/el\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10207"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}\n
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\u201cShe needs the sun,\u201d my mother shrugged, as though the rays of Cyprus could melt double chins. <\/p>\n
A vision in sunglasses, bleached hair, a cinched waist, and the unmistakable strut of someone who knew she owned the arrivals hall. Young men abandoned their trolleys and sprinted for a closer look. Jaws dropped. Greek grandmothers clutched their crosses and Greek grandfathers dropped their komboloi beads.<\/p>\n
Because this goddess wasn\u2019t a stranger.
This goddess was my sister. <\/p>\n\n