Dilani Blundell, 32, and Nelun Fahey, 34, met when they were adopted from Sri Lanka by their Australian parents in the 1980s. The sisters were raised in regional NSW on a diet of meat and three veg – and footy on the box.

NELUN: Dilani's birth certificate says she was four years old when she arrived in Australia. I remember seeing her at the airport – she was wearing this black velvet dress with long sleeves, and a pair of white knee-high socks that slid down to her ankles because she was so tiny and thin. She was covered in scars from head to toe from physical abuse, but she has no memories of what happened to her. She was found as a toddler wandering the streets in Colombo and taken to an orphanage – one of the nurses gave her a false certificate so she could be adopted and taken care of. That day at the airport, she ran towards me and embraced me, speaking in Tamil. I had no idea what she was saying: I'm Sinhalese but I only speak English – in Sri Lanka, our two peoples were at war with each other. We shared a bedroom: I remember lying awake at night listening to her speaking Tamil in her sleep. It sounded so foreign.

Dilani's only recollection of Sri Lanka is through flashbacks and dreams. It's hard for her to separate what is a true event coming back to her and what is simply a dream like anyone else might have. The only time she's really been able to distinguish between the two was when she moved to Sydney after high school. When we were growing up, Mum always cooked meat and three veg at home, and one day Dilani walked past a Sri Lankan restaurant in [Sydney's] Newtown and was moved to tears by the smell of the spices. Her response was so physical. She loves really spicy food and always has. Even when we were kids, Mum would take us to the pie shop for lunch and Dilani would always ask for the curried pie or one with chilli.

Dilani was really popular at school. She was vice-captain of Ulladulla High School. She was really sporty. I would "accidentally" forget my sports uniform – I'd prefer to write lines than do sport. We were the only people with dark skin at school so we could never skip a class because we really stood out – word would get straight back to our parents.

Sometimes Dilani can seem closed off. She's very self-sufficient and independent, so it can be hard to get close to her. She's always there for everyone in our family, asking how we're doing, but sometimes it's hard to know how she's doing because she's reluctant to share parts of herself. But given her past, I can completely accept that. Although, if she doesn't like something, she'll tell it like it is. Becoming a mother has really mellowed her out. She is a gorgeous mum, which surprised me: growing up, she was never motherly. It's so nice she's got her boy, Jasper. Everyone assumes Dilani's the older one, but she'll always be my little sister.