Being the eldest means you’re automatically the boss — until things go south, and then suddenly, you’re the bad influence. How can I explain the feeling of being an elder sister? How can I tell my kids that you weren’t my first child—my brother was, and still is? How can I explain the journey from the first time I held him to now—seeing him off to boarding school? How can I explain what it felt like to take the blow for his mistakes? How can I explain being so frustrated I planned his murder in my head-only to love him immensely the next moment? How do I explain any of this to someone?
Being the eldest doesn’t always mean being wiser. We all make our fair share of mistakes. There are mistakes that, as the eldest, you’re not supposed to make. Being the eldest doesn’t come with a free pass for mistakes. But God forbid the younger sibling makes the same mistake—”they’re just a kid”. It’s okay. Being the eldest comes with a lot of responsibility. It means leading without even understanding what leadership is in the first place. It means standing guard in silence, giving without being asked, and becoming a steady presence through every phase of life.
Being an elder sister comes with many roles: the guide, the guardian, the friend, the second parent. Sometimes the rule-maker, other times the secret-keeper. She’s been blamed for things she didn’t do and has been appreciated for things that she doesn’t even remember doing.
Raised While Raising
Parents raise their children—whether it’s a boy or a girl—and love them according to their nature. But still, they raise them equally. They might have a soft spot for their daughter and a playful side with their son. In between, the eldest may be the one that is the practice run for parenting. They are raised with strict rules and love that comes with high expectations. It means growing up faster, crying more quietly, and always being the ‘bigger person’—even when you’re just a child yourself. Doing whatever it takes to be a guiding shadow, even when the parents aren’t physically present. Thinking through every situation—even when you’re not sure how you got involved in the first place.
The eldest are so good at keeping secrets that parents aren’t even half aware of what’s going on—until the issue becomes something even they can’t handle. Then it’s time to call in the big guns—the parents. That feeling when your younger sibling comes running to you to share something meant just for the two of you. It’s exhilarating and funny at the same time, because for them, those hushed conversations feel like a big deal. They’ll make you swear on your lives never to let this reach the parents—even though you both know they’ll eventually find out.
There are times when they make a mistake, and without thinking, you step in—knowing full well the consequences may not be good for you. The need to protect, defend, cover, and lie for them can be so strong that right and wrong blur in the eldest child’s mind. It’s yelling at them for being reckless, then staying up all night to make sure they’re okay. It’s fighting with them for no reason, then coming back later to ask if they want takeout. It’s constantly nagging them to ask if something’s bothering them—only for them to say no at first, then come back later and admit we were right.
It’s being their second parent, their partner in crime, their scapegoat, their safety net, their best friend.
It’s loving them so much it sometimes aches.
It’s joy too — immeasurable joy. Like when they hug you out of nowhere. Like when they succeed, and you feel prouder than you do for yourself. Like when you realize that in all the chaos and contradictions, this love you hold for them is the most certain thing you know.
Unintentionally, the younger sibling does raise the eldest. The world assumes the eldest does the raising — the teaching, the protecting, the guiding. And often, we do. But what no one talks about is how the youngest, without even trying, ends up raising us too.
They teach us patience — not the kind you read in books, but the raw kind, the one forged in chaos and cries and tantrums.
They show us softness — the kind that makes you lower your voice even when you’re fuming, because you know they’re watching.
They make us responsible — not out of duty, but out of love. A fierce, instinctive love that pushes us to grow up a little faster, just so we can shield them from the parts of the world we learned the hard way.
The youngest raise the eldest in silence — through the laughter they bring, the mess they create, the mirrors they hold up. They teach us to forgive, to protect, to feel deeply.
They remind us of our own childhood, and sometimes make us grieve the innocence we lost too soon. But somehow, in loving them, we heal a little bit of ourselves too.
They grow under our care.
And we grow because of their presence.
The Bond Only Sisters Know
But being a sister to a brother brings its own kind of magic. It’s a bond woven with playful rivalry and quiet loyalty. She became his first female role model, unknowingly shaping the way he saw the world—how he respected women, how he handled emotions, how he understood strength in softness. She was his secret-keeper and sometimes his shield, but most importantly, his safe space. Even when words failed him, she understood.
Through the noise of silly fights and unspoken protectiveness, she learned to balance tenderness with toughness. She knew when to guide, when to listen, and when to just sit beside him in silence. And in return, she found in him not just a brother, but a lifelong friend.
Yet, being the eldest hasn’t always been easy. It meant growing up a little faster, staying strong even when she was scared, and putting someone else’s needs ahead of her own. It meant being the one who comforted, explained, shielded, and, sometimes, silently sacrificed.
Still, through all the challenges, being an elder sister became one of the most defining and beautiful aspects of her life. It shaped her character—teaching patience, empathy, and resilience. She learned that love often hides in the little things: a shared snack, a protective glare, a tight hug after a fight.
Now, as both of them grow and find their own paths, their bond continues to evolve. They’re no longer just siblings—they’re allies, companions, and home to each other. And no matter where life takes them, one truth will always remain:
She was, and always will be, the big sister.