March 29, 1997, I had a complete and total temper tantrum. Screaming, crying, hysterically pounding my fists on the floor -- I lost it. While I don’t quite remember the incident (I was only 2 and a half years old), I’ve heard about the scene a number of times. The cause, you ask? I had found out that the squishy little bean I had just met in my mom’s hospital room was not staying at the hospital like I thought, but coming home to live with my mom, dad and me. But this pivotal moment in my life is when I gained a confidante, an enemy, and my biggest supporter, or better known as my little brother.
Growing up, I always envied my mom. She and her two sisters are all within one year of each other, and I essentially grew up with two extra moms. I studied their relationships, their daily calls to each other, how they interacted so effortlessly -- able to predict what the other was thinking with no hesitation. I was jealous of these bonds and thought they were only a product of the fact that they were girls who could relate to one another in a different way than I could to Jake. I used to look at my relationship with Jake with a twinge of annoyance, thinking we would never be able to be like my mom and her sisters because of our gender differences and inability to find common ground.
It’s funny now to think about how lucky I am to have a little brother, and how much he’s taught me. Jake is my polar opposite -- not only in personality, but also in appearance. He is tan, tall and lanky. He is witty, thoughtful and caring. He looks at school a bit differently than me, taking a more lax approach (even as I write this, I’m already freaking out about two midterms later this week). I used to think he had terrible taste in music and movies, and now I go to him for recommendations all the time. He has also taught me more than just about anyone else in my life -- and it’s funny to think that a “chill bro” two and a half years younger than me could have that much of an impact. Younger brothers do that, and if you’re an older sister, I’m sure you can relate.
Having a younger brother, especially one like Jake, has taught me about how to care for someone other than myself in such a selfless fashion. We rely on each other in different ways, but nonetheless integral ways for each of us. I grew up ruthless in my expectations of him. I challenged him to try and compete with me, academically and socially. I questioned his every choice, argued with him, poked fun at his love of strange animals. I once pushed him to tears on a ski mountain after refusing to refer to him as anything other than "bud" or "buddy" for days. For a long time, I felt like he relied on me more than I did on him. I thought he was lucky to have me pushing him (honestly, the poor kid). I do still stand by the fact he has never quite repaid me for all the times I waited and drove him home from school. Over the years, however, Jake started to challenge me back -- and unfortunately, I started to lose arguments. Watching him in his friendships and relationships, though, is inspiring and has enhanced my own character.
In meeting the two of us, I am the obnoxiously loud, overtly friendly one. I make the bigger impression (if you know me, it’s just how I am). Jake, however, almost always bypasses these surface interactions I rely on. He is able to relate to people in such unique ways -- so interested in others, no matter who it is. Seeing this has made me reevaluate how I get to know people. He is so compassionate in getting to know others because he truly cares.
Not to mention, we are always in the other’s corner. I don’t know if there is anyone I would so blindly defend more than my younger brother. And I know he’d do the same for me. I am fiercely protective of him -- it’s one thing for me to call him out for doing something dumb, but others beware. Don’t mess with Jakey-poo.
We argue like cats and dogs. We go days living under the same roof, not really interacting other than to talk about what we want for dinner. He got a cat knowing I’m highly allergic. But Jake is the first person I call in a crisis, knowing he would listen patiently and offer a logical solution as for how to approach a problem. He relies on me too -- girl advice, paper editing, fashion tips (is the hat too much? What color shirt should I wear with this jacket?). We’ve reached a point where we can read each other’s moods without saying anything, knowing how to navigate in helpful ways.
I used to dream about what it would be like to have a sister close in age. Younger brothers are dirty, messy, sometimes emotionally inept foreign boys. In our differences, Jake and I learn from each other. And there seems to be a sort of bond between all older sisters with little brothers. I am so grateful for my partner in crime, and can’t wait to keep trudging through this crazy life knowing he always has my back.
This is me below waking him up on Christmas morning at 8 a.m. with my new selfie stick.
