People frequently ask me, “Are you Valentina’s sister?”

And the answer to that question is yes.

The funny part is, they usually don’t even ask until they’ve already had that moment of realization. I’ll see it flicker across their faces first: the quick double-take, the squint, and then the grin. Then comes the classic: “OOOOOH, you’re Vale’s sister! You guys look the same!” And I just laugh and say, “Yes, sister. Not twins.” Despite what half the world seems to think.

It always makes me laugh because if you only knew us “on paper,” you’d probably never guess we’re related. On my résumé: 19, economics at Rice, finance clubs, endless case competitions. On hers: 16, dreams of going to law school, soccer captain, and somehow also juggling student government. One of us spends Saturday mornings solving practice problems in the library; the other is sprinting across a muddy field or running a meeting agenda for the National Honor Society. My dream trip would be skiing down huge mountains, while she can’t stand being in the cold for five seconds and would much rather spend her days by the beach. She loves to write and even won the high school’s writing contest, while I sometimes stare at a blank doc for hours, trying to make a sentence sound right (pov: me right now). Two totally different worlds.

Once people actually see us side by side, the resemblance becomes impossible to ignore. In photos, it’s always the smile that gets them, the same big grins that make our eyes half-close like we’re both laughing at the same joke (which we probably are). And of course, the signature kissy face we both somehow default to when someone pulls out a camera. Friends point at those pictures and laugh: “You two are basically twins.” Even my mom jokes that our raised eyebrows look identical when we’re annoyed. Once people notice, they can’t unsee it. And then, boom. Suddenly, it’s all anyone talks about.

But what I admire most about Valentina isn’t just that we look alike. She’s younger than me, yet somehow she’s my biggest inspiration. I’ve lost track of how many times she has surprised me with her drive and determination. One of the proudest moments for me came when she was elected Vice President of the National Honor Society. I still remember the phone call she made to tell me. She was trying to play it cool, saying, “So…I got it,” but I could hear the excitement bubbling under her voice. I practically shouted back through the phone, “Vale! That’s amazing!” I was in Houston at the time, far from home, but I felt like I was right there celebrating with her. In that moment, I realized how much she’d grown into her own leader, someone who doesn’t just work hard for herself but inspires and organizes others. Watching her step into that role made me even more certain that she’s unstoppable in whatever she sets her mind to.

Meanwhile, my life looks different. I’ve never been a fan of soccer, and would much rather do a presentation than participate in debates. And unlike her, writing doesn’t always come easily to me; it’s something I’ve had to work at, rewrite, and refine over and over. But instead of letting those differences separate us, Valentina turns them into jokes and laughter. She never makes me feel “less than.” Instead, she inspires me through her discipline, motivation, and her way of showing up for her team and community, no matter how tired she is.

And it’s not just in school or leadership. Off the field and outside of classrooms, she’s as thoughtful as she is driven. She’s the person who will stay up until 2 a.m. perfecting an outline, not because someone told her to, but because she wants to give her best. She’s also the one who texts me at random: “You’d be proud, I finally spoke up in class today.” Those moments remind me how important it is to always keep working towards a better version of yourself. 

Since I moved to Houston for university, I’ve felt the distance between us more than I expected. Back home, we had small rituals: late-night kitchen raids for Tru Fru, trading playlists in the car, her stealing my hoodie because hers was “too itchy.” Now, those moments happen differently. A Snapchat of her cleats covered in mud. A two-minute FaceTime while she’s walking across campus. Or a simple text: “Miss you, sis. Call later?”

It’s in those everyday little things that I realize how grateful I am. Grateful for the way she reminds me of home. Grateful for how she shows me that confidence isn’t about being loud but about being consistent. Grateful that even across countries, she’s still the person who makes me laugh hardest and motivates me most.

So yes, we do look alike. But more than that, she’s the person who makes me the happiest every single time I get to say: “Yes, I’m Vale’s sister.”