Why Having A Younger Brother is the Best Thing Ever

When I found out as a two-year-old that I was getting a sibling, I was so excited––because I was convinced that I was getting a little sister. I even told everyone that I was getting a sister to which my mom would follow up with “We don’t actually know. Genevieve just wants a sister.” My parents decided to find out their second child’s sex before birth, in part because they wanted to give me time to adjust to the idea of a brother if that turned out to be the case. It did and I demanded that my mom “change it.” When she said she couldn’t, I didn’t talk to her for a few days.

Though eventually, I came around. When my grandfather asked me, “Genevieve, are you going to show your brother the ropes?” I replied with “What ropes? Jump ropes?” I was excited to have a sibling to play with. When my brother was born a month after my third birthday, I couldn’t have been happier, and I haven’t stopped being happy about it for the last almost seventeen years. From the moment he was born, my brother and I were inseparable. I hated it when my baby brother had to take a nap because that meant I couldn’t play with him. When I started kindergarten, my brother would ask when I was coming home and he would wait for me at the bus stop with my mom and immediately hug me when I got off. When we went to the same school, he would always give me a hug in the hallway when he saw me, and every Christmas morning as young kids we would giggle in each others’ beds until we were allowed to wake up our parents.

Even though there was a period of time during my brother’s early teen years when I wasn’t cool and he barely talked to me, this past summer my brother got his license and, like most new drivers, he loved just driving around, and he invited me to go along. We would drive aimlessly for an hour just talking. I love having a brother because even though we are nothing alike and look nothing alike, we come from the same family and we have an understanding of each other’s lives that others don’t. Also, my brother gives me the bluntest (and funniest) dating advice, and even though most of the time he thinks I’m dramatic and weird, I always know that he loves me. A couple of months ago I got my heart badly broken by a guy who ghosted me, and when I called my brother crying he said, “Well, it doesn’t matter because you are a bad b*tch anyway,” which was honestly better than him saying “I love you.” My brother drives me crazy the majority of the time (because that’s his job) and calls me weird and uncool, but when it comes down to it, he keeps me humble. I know he loves me. My brother’s tough love has been the greatest teacher in my life of the lesson that not everyone has to like me and I can still be loveable.

Recently, I took my brother to an out-of-state college visit since he isn’t old enough to stay in a hotel by himself. Not only was the trip a fun opportunity to get to be together as the two of us, but I value the time I have with him in the same place; I started going to boarding school at fifteen and my least favorite part about it was that I wasn’t home to see my brother grow up during his early teen years. The trip was very special to me because it wasn’t long ago that I was going on college visits and imagining what I wanted to do with my future. My brother and I have different interests, but I love getting to see his dreams grow as he becomes the person that he is meant to be. The truth is, my relationship with my brother looks a lot different than it did when we were little kids in a twin bed on Christmas morning. During our weekend trip, my brother informed me how weird it is that I am turning twenty in a couple of months and that he has “an adult sister.” Our relationship has gotten deeper and we have learned how to be honest with each other (Layton, sorry for oversharing during all the times I ranted to you about boy drama that you probably didn’t want to know). My brother is a constant reminder to me of where I have come from and the biggest supporter of where I’m going, and I wouldn’t trade that for having a sister, ever. At the end of the day, I am so glad I didn’t get what I wanted, because I got the exact sibling I needed. 

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