A solid majority of my memories from my childhood consists of being a little sister. From the moment I came into the world, my two older brothers did not hesitate to start using me for their personal gain. From a punching bag to their scapegoat, I like to think I was all my brothers could ever hope for in a younger sibling. As we grew up, and they realized it probably was not a good idea to continue to stuff me in suitcases and roll me down stairs, they started to become my best friends.

Between the endless late-night car rides, coaching and teaching me the rules of every sport ever, and ultimately being the only people I trust to give me advice and tell me whether or not my Instagram caption is funny enough, I could not imagine what life would be without my two favorite role models.

My brothers have given me the best gift possible: the gift of always being the baby of the family. That means that no matter what problem or issue I am having, they have most likely been through something similar and can tell me what I am supposed to do. That also means they have cleared the way for me to make whatever mistakes humanly possible because they have already made several of their own.

I will forever be grateful to have footsteps to follow in and things to remind my parents of when I get in trouble.

From the second I could walk, I could also throw, kick, hit, catch, and bat. My brothers raised me to play sports. There was simply no other option. I loved playing basketball in the driveway with them and their friends and pretending I could keep up. They made me tough, not that I needed to be; they were the best bodyguards I could ever ask for.

They were there with a shoulder to cry on when I lost a game or fought with a friend. They protected me like I was glass snow globe, never letting me break.

My brothers are the coolest people I know. I have looked up to them my entire life and always aspired to be just like them. I have yearned both for their approval and for their mercy. I am so proud of all they have accomplished in their lives and always get a huge smile on my face when someone refers to me as "Nathaniel or Jared's little sister". It is an honor.

To my brothers: thank you for picking me up late when you had better things to do. Thank you for taking my side when mom and dad were less than pleased with my actions. And even though you are convinced I am still 12 years old and yell at me anytime I wear anything other than a turtleneck, thank you for loving me. I know I was potentially the most annoying and clingy little sister ever.

And thank you for sitting through 15 years of my dance recitals with only minimal complaining!