Let me start off by saying anybody who has an older brother understands that sometimes he is the most annoying person in the whole world; and he probably thinks the same about us, the younger sister. However, looking past the fact that my older brother basically exists to make my life just a bit more difficult, I’m thankful for growing up with an older brother.

I’d like to thank my brother for always having my back. He could make fun of me endlessly, and totally has, but as soon as anyone else actually did, I know that he would defend me. I would also like to throw in a thank you for thinking I should not date anyone, ever, and trying to make sure that happened for a while as part of his “having my back.”

I would also like to thank him for being a good person to look up to. My brother has the nickname “the renaissance man” with my friends because he’s great at pretty much everything, like no exaggeration. He’s never met a sport, art, or activity in general that didn’t like him. Though it used to annoy me that he’s better than me at basically everything we both do, I now appreciate that having somebody that is good at a lot of things, is also a good somebody to look up to.

One thing I think my older brother doesn’t know about me is that I always wanted to be more like my him when I was a kid. As I grew up, I realized that the world was better off not having two of either of us, but for a while I wanted to be just like him. There’s something about older brothers in general that just makes them seem so cool, and I always wanted to be a part of that coolness my brother had.

Growing up with a brother was nice because I knew that he would never try to borrow or take my clothes. It slightly made up for the fact that he would take my phone chargers, contact solution, and anything else he forgot to bring home from college for the weekend.

But more than anything, thank you to my older brother for being the oldest child in the family. Anybody who is a second child knows just how real second child syndrome actually is. The oldest in the family could get yelled at for not putting a cup away while the second child could basically get away with murder.

Though there are always some downsides to growing up with an older brother -- no clothes to borrow, no cute candids -- at the end of the day I love having an older brother, and at this point in my life I cannot imagine having grown up any other way.