Growing up with three older brothers didn’t seem like such a big deal until I got older and realized not everyone had the childhood I did. Though everyone is different and certainly has their own experiences, compared to the childhood of some of my friends and cousins, I realized mine was pretty distinct—thanks to my brothers. So below I have listed my six personal struggles of growing up with three older brothers. Even if you can’t relate to one or any of them, I’m sure you’ll find the humor in them (or maybe in one of the many embarrassing photos I’ve used). Enjoy!
1. I was a hindrance . . .
My older brothers had to take me everywhere with them, as well as look after me at home. Most of the time when it came to watching me at home, it was more of the thought that counted — shout out to Justin for blowing up the microwave trying to feed us both. You tried.
All of my brothers tried including me in things, because they were responsible for me and had no choice, and sometimes things worked out. Once I was a nurse— my Barbie lunchbox filled with bandaids and peroxide— during the neighborhood “Civil War." I’m not sure how the war started or ended, but I know I was terrified to go outside because the boys' toy pop guns seemed real and people were getting real hurt instead of pretend hurt and I was expected to help them all and --- it was a difficult job. (Salute to all the military nurses and nurses in general, y’all are stronger than I am).
2. . . . And a Blessing.
Though my brothers often hated when I tagged along, they soon realized I came with perks. They made me ask our parents for whatever they wanted and Mom and Dad never told me no . . . when I was little anyway. I still remember asking for ridiculous stuff like ice-cream and pizza because my brothers demanded it. It was cool though, I felt a part of the clique because we all got along and no one saw me as the bothersome little sister. Later we would be teased by aunts and random teachers for being spoiled — though some of us did not always get everything we wanted.
3. I got told “No”— a lot.
I can remember every single thing I wanted to do, even normal things like prom and senior trip, being looked over with a microscope. My dad would weigh the pros and cons of me going somewhere and in his mind, it was always better if I stayed home. Needless to say my older brothers never had this problem. One of them even drove my parents’ car to prom without a license — but that’s another story for another time. I would watch my brothers go on cruises to foreign countries, move out of our home and into an apartment in different cities, go on dates, etc and I couldn’t wait until it was my turn. Then, I realized things would be different for me. I now (sort of) understand the over-protection, but I still don’t agree with it.
4. I never got to pick what we watched on TV.
I always related better to the boys in my class than the girls growing up because the guys knew about "Dragon Ball Z", "Pokemon" and all the other goofy shows that seemed to be marketed towards boys. I love these shows now and they bring back fond memories, but I had no choice in watching them! My brothers always picked what we watched on TV. Nobody ever wanted to watch "My Little Pony" or "Barbie" — which I am now forever grateful they didn’t, but it still would have been nice to have a choice. I still have nightmares about watching some episode of "Justice League" when they had to battle zombies. Needless to say, Barbie would have been a more favorable option.
5. I spent a lot of time alone.
Maybe it’s because I got tired of being the nurse or watching “boy” shows, but for whatever reason, sometimes I ended up alone. This may seem sad, but having alone time is good (seriously). I even enjoyed being alone and even remember many times where I kicked my brothers out of my room so I could continue my Bratz doll's struggle as a single mother (I never got a boy doll to pair her with). The lack of young girls my age in the area where I lived also contributed to me spending time alone, though sometimes I wasn’t completely alone. In between inventing creative storylines for my dolls, I spent the day inside following my mom around. I learned a lot before she would get annoyed and tell me to go play. Anyway, alone time did me good. It made me creative and taught me to be independent.
6. When I did spend time with friends, they never compared to having my brothers around.
I can still remember having friends over at my house and being thoroughly bored with them. This could just be me, but I feel every little sister would rather be spending time with her brothers watching "Avatar: The Last Airbender" or whatever other show you and your brother(s) watched, than trying to explain it some girl who grew up watching "My Little Pony" (I've never seen the show, but no judgments if you love/loved it!) and just doesn’t get it. In fact, if I had to choose between having three older sisters or my amazing three older brothers, I’d probably just ask God for a fish or something.
Just kidding!
I love my brothers and I wouldn’t trade them for anything, because growing up would not have been nearly as much fun without them.
