For as long as I can recall, my sister has been intertwined with the concept of space. When I was just six years old, while she was ten, we would sit together on our bedroom floor, absorbed in The Big Book of Space.

“Look at that!” I would exclaim, pointing at the vibrant patterns swirling around Jupiter’s Red Spot. My sister explained that it was a storm responsible for the planet's striking features.

“Check this out!” Marissa would respond, showcasing a two-page depiction of the Milky Way, where the stars sparkled against the dark backdrop.

She attended space camp in Hutchinson, Kansas, for several years. I still vividly remember the drives with our parents to pick her up at summer's end, eagerly browsing the Cosmosphere's gift shop, marveling at astronaut food and pens that functioned in zero gravity.

Our bedrooms were adorned with glow-in-the-dark stars, and we would take turns peering through a modest telescope, straining one eye to spot Venus among the constellations. Over the years, I drifted towards different pursuits, yet for my sister, her passion for space remained unwavering.

Currently, Marissa is employed by Virgin Galactic, previously known as The Spaceship Company. When Richard Branson ventured into space on July 11, 2021, it wasn’t merely a historical moment; my sister played a role in that mission. It was the realization of a lifelong aspiration.

The thought brings tears to my eyes. I could listen to her recount her experiences for hours, nodding along, even as I struggle to grasp the complexities she discusses. It fills me with joy to see my sister actively pursuing her passion. She is truly doing it!

Yet, in solitude, I feel a tightening sensation. Where is my own passion? I ponder. What is my purpose?

How did Marissa discover hers at such a young age, while I find myself at 30 still on a quest?

So, I decided to inquire further.

Marissa shared that her journey began in Mrs. Schwab’s third-grade class.

“We studied the solar system, and that sparked everything,” she recalls. It was an immediate and profound fascination with space that she couldn’t quite articulate.

She reflects on alternative career paths like astrophysics, but there is no regret in her tone—just contemplation. I often think about the various paths I could have taken, as Robert Frost illustrates with his metaphorical fork in the road. Did I make the right choices?

However, Marissa speaks with certainty. She recalls a “vocational quiz” in eighth grade that suggested aerospace engineering as a fitting career based on her personality.

I remember that quiz well. I took it several times, often feeling disheartened by the results, which included roles like lawyer, researcher, actor, writer, or doctor. But for my sister, the quiz was definitive.

Marissa pursued a five-year aerospace engineering degree at the University of Kansas, followed by a Master's Degree at Purdue.

During her Master’s studies, I made the decision to drop out of college. Although I achieved good grades and enjoyed several classes, my major in psychology never felt right, much like the results of that vocational quiz.

As my sister chased her ambitions with fervor, I felt like I was wasting time, merely waiting for my calling to reveal itself. I envied her dedication to her dream, wishing I could feel as passionate about anything as she did about space.

At one point, I noted in my journal: "There are two ways to live your life—either love your work, which brings fulfillment and purpose, or work just enough to get by and seek passion outside of your job. The former are the luckiest."

As a teenager, I believed my sister and I were both diligent students with good grades, but beyond that, we were incredibly different—“night and day,” our parents would often say.

I was a cheerleader, worked at tanning salons, dressed up for school, and spent time straightening my hair and applying makeup.

Marissa, on the other hand, played the violin, participated in the Japanese Club, wore oversized t-shirts daily, and kept her hair in a ponytail.

For years, I thought we had little in common. Our relationship fluctuated, sometimes drifting peacefully alongside one another, and at other times, too engulfed in our own challenges to connect.

When Marissa became a mother of twins, I resolved to rekindle our bond. In recent years, we’ve shared holidays and vacations, enjoying late-night conversations about our lives. One night, she revealed to me that she identifies as non-binary.

“Well, your fashion choices make more sense now,” I playfully teased, in a manner typical of younger siblings. Instead of feeling that familiar pang of being different from her, my heart swelled with pride. It takes immense bravery to embrace one's true self.

“It’s both surreal and somewhat mundane at the same time,” she said.

While in college, Marissa participated in NASA Academy, a blend of internship and summer camp that introduced her to her dream job. Yet, working for a government agency comes with its challenges—choosing between being a government employee with better benefits or a contractor with higher pay but less job security.

Rather than allowing the disillusionment of NASA to deter her from her goals, Marissa chose her path. After her Master’s program, she took a position at ACE, a company that manufactures aerospace components.

At ACE, she ensured that all parts met the strict specifications outlined in the “rulebook.”

“I knew those regulations inside out,” she shared. “I could even recall specific page or paragraph numbers half the time… And I loved it!”

This work—something she never expected to enjoy—ultimately paved the way to her dream job.

Our conversation is momentarily interrupted as one of the twins stirs from a nap. I smile as I watch Marissa switch to her baby voice, showering her child with kisses.

“How did it feel stepping into a real spaceship for the first time?” I asked.

“Kind of surreal and somewhat ordinary at the same time,” she chuckled. I burst into laughter at how astonishing it is to think of a spaceship becoming routine!

The first spacecraft she entered was VSS Unity, the very vessel that would later transport Sir Richard Branson into space. Within a week, she found herself inside multiple spaceships, primarily verifying specifications and brainstorming necessary enhancements.

Sometimes, I still picture my sister as that pre-teen with a space-themed bedroom, just as my daughter does n