“Meredith, stand up straight. No one will take you seriously with that posture,” my mother would snap when I was just 12. “Allison has natural grace. You have to work harder.”

On my 16th birthday, my father raised a glass. I remember thinking, Maybe this time it’s for me. Instead, he announced Allison’s acceptance into an elite summer program at Yale. My birthday cake sat forgotten in the kitchen.

College brought no relief. While I was at Boston University working a part-time job and maintaining a 4.0 GPA, my parents barely came to my events. But they’d travel three states over for every single one of Allison’s performances at Juilliard.