The little brother
I always hated being born as the youngest child in my family of four. Yes, there are many advantages such as getting help from my older brother, whether it’s advice or protection. Hand downs are also a plus. However being the youngest born comes with much more disadvantages. First of all, I am never taken seriously. It always feels like having a muzzle over my mouth, as I say something and they all ignore it. Being the youngest child also comes with lots of comparisons, “When your older brother was your age he never did this”, and much more. This is why being the youngest feels like a win and lose situation… but mostly lose.
I remember the times me and my family would watch a movie together every weekend. I remember being in charge of the snacks, heating up the popcorn, bringing the chocolate and candy, and delivering the beverages. I remember the little arguments on which movie to watch. I remember the feeling of being tired throughout the movie, but not wanting to sleep in order to watch the movie. Then finally knocking out on the couch after the movie finished. I remember waking up in the middle of the night slowly walking my tired self back into my room and falling straight onto my cloudlike bed. These memories will be with me forever.
As a kid learning how to play basketball, I always faced so many challenges and disadvantages. Being one of the bigger kids my age, I was always forced to play the center in our team due to my height and size. I hated this as it made me different from the other kids. Instead of being taught how to dribble and shoot, I was always taught to stay in the paint and to rebound, post up, and score on closest shots. This angered me because I wasn't able to play the way I wanted to. Play the way I saw and watched the game. Play the way that sparked the love I had for the game.
Enough was enough, I decided to take things into my own hands. Day after day, night after night, I would practice the art of shooting and dribbling in my backyard. Finally, after hours and hours of blood, sweat, and tears, I was at last confident in my abilities. I was finally able to play the way I always wanted to play.
Growing up, me and my brother were relatively close. From being toddlers to middle school we would play and hangout with one another almost every day. Whenever and whatever we were doing, we always found a way to have fun. However, it all started to come to an end as we started to enter middle school. He would start having much more homework and less free time as he would hang out with his friends. This forced me to move on and to start being more independent. This feeling felt very strange and unfamiliar since I always had someone with me. This left a void that was soon filled with new hobbies that I’ve picked up. Fast forward a few years later, I still remember the days we would have fun with each other. To this day I still miss it every second. Thinking back on the old fun times has taught me to appreciate time and not to take it for granted.
Growing up, I feel like I had one of the strictest parents. They always expected excellence from me. Straight A’s, behaving, following instructions, whatever the case was, they always expected me to do good. I feel like this is also a win situation for myself because as I was taught this way, it would help me during my adulthood. But living this lifestyle also took away from my childhood. I never was able to experience experiences many kids should experience. For example, I was never able to go to sleep overs until I was in middle school. This made me feel left out a lot as I was a kid.