1 Big Sister + 3 Not So Little Brothers

Yesterday, I texted my Sour Patch Kid* just to check in and see how he’s doing. This is a new habit for me in our relationship.

I have 3 little brothers now: My 3 Brosketeers**.

There was a time when my SPK and I didn’t see eye-to-eye.

He wanted to be the #1 sibling and I was like, “Nah”.

So, he told me I wasn’t his #1 sibling because another sister interacted with him more on social media and texted him. I was basically like, “Well, The Kid checks on me and that’s why you’re not #1!” I even “adopted” 3 of his friends so he’d be lower on the scale. Just #petty. We got nowhere.

Eventually, we had an exchange about my emotional needs as the only sister and his physical needs as a little brother. We have different love languages, I think. I require “words of affirmation” and being emotionally secure. He requires “quality time” and loyalty.

I get that now. At the time, I just thought he was being spoiled. But, actually, we were both just trying to communicate our needs.

Fast-forward to last night. I’m in the shower, reflecting on my day—as is routine—and I have this sort of epiphany!

He didn’t want to be #1. He just wanted to matter.***

The Kid lived with me. He’s the youngest and I am his smother****. Batman is pretty much the self-sufficient older kid. And SPK is the middle kid: self-sufficient, yet still attached, in a good way.

I get it. I wasn’t being a very fair big sister. I showed favoritism to The Kid and justified it by our “bond”. But, I have just as much a bond with SPK. Just a different bond.

He’s the one I “turn up” with. The one I talk shit with. The one I talk about astrology and philosophy with. The one who pays for brunch and makes me so proud with his drive and the way he loves his friends—even the ones who annoy me.

He’s the one who insists I come along to events with his family because his family is my family.

He’s also the one who pushes all my buttons and makes me keep a “sibling for sale” sign tucked in my back pocket.

He’s sour, and so sweet.

I get it. I get wanting to be equal. I get wanting to be a priority. I was fucking up as a big sib. I’m better now.

I’m still learning what it means to be “family”. And I’m getting better at it each day.

|*I give people titles/nicknames. My middle kid brother is my “Sour Patch Kid” because he’s a bit of an asshole (much like his stubborn taurus sister), yet such a sweetheart.
|**I don’t remember where I saw the term “brosketeers”, but I thought it was great.
|***Okay, he DOES really want to be #1. But, not just #1 sibling; #1 in life. He works hard to be the best.
|****I’m protective of all my siblings, blood and “adopted”, but I am fiercely protective of this one. He lived with me. I dropped him at the Amtrak station and watched him move away. I got Snapchat because he demanded I did so we could still send pictures. I smoked weed for the first time with him. Shit is deep.


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