When I was a child, I often felt a pang of disappointment that I didn’t have a sister. My first brother arrived when I was just two, followed by another when I was three. That was fine, but when my mom announced she was pregnant again when I was six, I just knew it was my moment. A sister was on the way, and I envisioned nothing but magic. Instead, I was greeted by brother number three. Furious, I refused to sleep in my own room, where they had the audacity to place his crib, opting instead to stay with my grandmother for a couple of weeks. However, as time passed, I began to appreciate the unique blessings of having brothers.
Initially, I enjoyed having brothers because it meant I didn’t have to share my belongings. I had my own room, my own clothes, and my own toys, and my brothers showed little interest in those things, allowing me to be a bit selfish. But beneath that surface, I cherished growing up with them because they had no expectations of how I should behave or who I should become. They accepted me for my loud, bossy, and independent nature, and that was liberating.
With just six years separating us from oldest to youngest, we were always together. There were no older teenagers to escape the group; it was a united front. I cheered them on at their basketball games, and they patiently watched my performances. Our family was built on supporting one another, and it was clear that we were best friends. People often remarked on our bond, and my mom would say, “They genuinely like each other.” And we did. The four of us formed a tight-knit unit, regardless of the numbers.
I never had a sister to confide in about things like getting my period or learning to shave my legs—my brothers didn’t care about that. But honestly, I didn’t feel deprived; my mom and friends provided that support. My brothers were more interested in playing Nintendo with me or binging on classic ’80s and ’90s sitcoms. We shared countless laughs and memories, quoting our favorite films and TV shows. I would give anything for another night of watching “Back to the Future” or “National Lampoon’s Vacation” with them.
When it came to dating, I wasn’t keen on bringing boys home, but I did have my fair share of girl visitors, each with secret nicknames I conjured up. It may have been a bit harsh, but my brothers were my best friends, and I wanted nothing but the best for them. Some girls simply didn’t make the cut, and I stand by my choices, believing I helped my brothers avoid some pitfalls.
Through my brothers, I gained insights into men that I doubt I would have gathered from sisters. I observed their hygiene habits, work ethics, and their astonishing appetites. But beyond that, I witnessed their tenderness, their love for our mom, and their protectiveness over me. They taught me to stand up for myself and not settle for less because I deserve better. Even as the eldest, they always looked out for me, which was a comforting feeling.
Having brothers brings so much joy because they know how to make me laugh—truly laugh, to the point of feeling sick. They help me see when I’m being too uptight and serious. They can tell me, “Get over yourself; you’re not that important,” and I actually listen. More times than I’d like to admit, I need that reminder, and they know just how to provide it.
Now, as a mother to three sons and one daughter, I’m thrilled that she will experience the kind of love that only brothers can offer. They will be her protectors, her friends, and her confidants. They will teach her how to stand up for herself and to never back down in an argument. She will learn what to seek in a partner by having the best examples of unconditional love. Plus, she will understand the importance of humor because no one can make her laugh as hard as her three brothers.
Being a sister to my three brothers and a mother to three sons, I may not be an expert on men, but I am incredibly grateful for their presence in my life. Brothers have a unique way of allowing me to view life through a different lens. I wouldn’t be who I am today without the love of my three brothers. While I once wished for a sister, it turns out that what I needed was to be surrounded by good-hearted boys, and for that, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
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In summary, having brothers has shaped my identity and provided me with invaluable lessons about life, love, and laughter. I feel fortunate for the bond we share, one that I now see reflected in my own children.