Little Sibs

The television shows I watched in middle school all had one thing in common: sibling rivalry. Lizzy McGuire’s little brother was always trying his best to embarrass her; Raven’s little brother demanded to be paid to help her with small favors; and Drake and Josh’s little sister delighted in tormenting her brothers to no end.

You’d think that because I grew up with these shows, I too would despise my little sibs.

Somehow, I don’t. Cliché as it sounds, my four younger siblings and I have a healthy relationship. Our house is always filled with a cacophony of voices, of talking and yelling and laughing and crying and playing and fighting and it’s chaos. But I couldn’t live without it.

I love my little brothers and sister. It’s shocking, I know, to hear a teenager profess their love for their family. Still, I’m not afraid to say it; my little sibs are my rock.

Of course, there are times when I can’t stand them, like when my stupid brothers tease me about my boyfriend, or when my persistent sister pesters me until I play cards with her. But I can’t help loving them to death. My bratty little brothers are the first to ask how my soccer game went, my annoying little sister wakes up at 6 to wish me good luck on a test later in the day.

My sibs have an amazing relationship with me. But my relationship with them is even more than that. I’m the one they go to when they have a problem they don’t want our parents to know about. I’m the one they turn to when they need advice about some kid at school, or when they just need someone to listen. As the oldest, I have a responsibility to be there for them, whenever they need me. It’s my job to make sure my sibs know they can come to me with anything and I won’t get mad.

I detest when some of my friends rant about how much they hate their little brother or sister. The relationship between big sibling and little sibling is supposed to be something special, something sacred. But brothers and sisters are just letting that bond fade away. Even worse, many are actively shattering that familial tie because external influences like the media, TV shows, and peer pressure all say that not hating your siblings is wrong and abnormal.

My little sibs and I aren’t perfect. We argue and we scream. We make each other cry and we have mini-feuds over nothing.

But you know what?

We eat dinner together even when our parents aren’t there. We tell each other stories about our days and we joke around while doing homework. We watch TV together with minimal fighting over the remote, and we tell each other goodnight before going to bed.

I believe that’s what a sibling relationship should be.