My Father was always deployed and wasn't around much; he missed birthdays, holidays and a majority of my brother's life. My brother is two years older than me and we were inseparable when we were younger at least. He was always the cool older brother and I was the stereotypical pesky sister. Anywhere he went I would follow along like a lost puppy without a home. I remember in third grade someone was making fun of my weight on the bus.It felt like everything was going in slow motion when I heard the bully turn around to face me on the bus. "You're really ugly and fat too" The words replayed in my head like a broken record. He turned around laughing with a friend leaving me with a gift of insecurity. I remember walking blurry eyed from the tears hitting the pavement as I walked. I walked in the door to my house, my mom instantly saw my red face and drippy nose and asked what had happened. At this point my brother came by my side to get the full story. I shakily told them about the horrid bus ride choking on every word. My brother went into the garage, grabbed a bat and ran to the guy's house. By the time my mother and I arrived to the bully's house, my brother had already had him outside shaking. The bully apologized carefully keeping an eye on my brother's bat wielding hand. I used to find myself wishing that this older brother will somehow come back into my life. I quickly snapped out of that realizing that fairy tales and wishing was for little kids. The protective, comforting older brother I loved and adored vanished into thin air as soon as my father got out of the military.
My father has always been biased towards me, you know how it goes "I'm daddy's little girl" and I'm the youngest. Yet at times I believe this favoritism is just a cover up for the disappointment my Father has in himself and my brother. My brother was player one and I was always player two yet, at some point he disconnected his controller. Saying that my brother dislikes me would be an understatement. "Shut up" "No one is talking to you" "Just be quiet" These words aren't even the worst of it. They say words can't hurt you ,but they can be a reminder of how lowly your brother thinks of you. It is funny almost hypocritical really, to think about how he constantly makes fun of my weight, but it's not okay when that bully did it so many years ago. You are probably wondering what my parents must think of this well my Mother tries her best to make us get along. She tries to encourage him to be nicer and communicate with me better. "She's your sister the only girl you will have in your life until the end, who is going to be there at the end of the day when your girlfriend leaves you?" In other hopes of us getting along she made me and my brother sit down and try to talk after bringing me to tears with his disrespect. "Why are you so scornful and nasty to me, did I say something wrong?" "No" he replied awkwardly while picking at a scab on his arm. "Then why are you so rude to me?" At this point it felt like waterfalls were coming out of my eyes. "I don't know" he said as he looked away from my puffy teary face. I asked him one last question in vain before getting up and leaving. "What have I ever done to you!?" He hesitated, unsure of what to say next. I was sure that his next words were going to be 'You were born' but instead he nonchalantly said no. We sat in uncomfortable silence for what seemed like hours until I got up to leave. We never talked about it again.
My father is blinded by this and I believe is in denial, as if he doesn't want to admit his fault and resentment towards my brother. My mother and I tried to show him how biased he was with an experiment, I left the refrigerator door open and he saw and closed it. Next I made it seem like my brother had left the door open. Angrily, he called him down there and proceeded to yell at him I had to actually step in and tell him I had left it open again. His face softened and the vein in his head went down. "Just remember to close it next time" That was the end of the discussion. My brother never found out about my mother and I's experiment and we don't plan on telling him anytime soon. Therapy or family counseling is completely out of the question, both my dad and my brother hate therapy and won't go back to it. It's funny how the ones who have the worst relationship with each other have so much in common. Human connections are confusing, messy and complex. They can strengthen over time or sometimes fade. Before, I said I had stopped hoping my brother would like me I lied, everyday I secretly hope that today is the day where he finally wakes up and realizes his wrong doings... the day he actually plugs back in his controller.