Before Me, There Were
Before me, my family was overpowered by boys. My mother was the lone woman, with my dad and two older brothers running the house. My brothers, Phillip and Stephen, are a lot older than me, 14 and 11 years, respectively. In comparison to my friends who in late elementary and middle school had baby siblings, the age difference is not that much. However, in the eyes of a little sibling, the difference seems monumental. My parents are older than some of my peers (although there are some in my similar situation), and I already have watched two of my family go through college. This age difference has influenced me in different ways, and I have learned a lot from my two older brothers.
When my parents announced to my siblings that I was going to be born, my then 10 year old brother Stephen ran outside into our yard and climbed a tree. Needless to say, the reaction by my brothers was less-than-enthusiastic, but their view of me changed when I came along. Stephen has always been nicer to me, and overall I spent more time with him while growing up. Phillip was the stereotypical mean older sibling, who teased me relentlessly. Between the two, growing up with them entailed me going to soccer games and infinite amounts of track meets, following them around when their friends came over, being a prop in their high school video projects, visiting their dorms when they went off to college, and ultimately being proud of them and their successes. Through their experiences, I learned how to handle certain situations, and received advice about anything and everything—from the transition to middle school and high school, to how to deal with Mom when she’s upset.
Through all the teasing and jokes (Stephen will constantly call the time before I was born B.E. for Before Emily), my older brothers both helped shape my childhood. Even though I was not always the perfect little sister, nor were they the perfect older brothers, I still love them for it.