I never thought much about being the middle child or the only daughter. In primary school lessons we were asked about what it was like to be the eldest child, middle child or youngest child, and I never had anything to comment on. My brothers and I were always treated similarly and that was probably due to the close age gap we have. My older brother is only 1 year and 8 months older, and my younger brother, 1 year 1 month 1 week and 1 day younger. No one was ever the favourite or least favourite, and I think that is how it should be in a family.
The three of us get on well now in our twenties and we always have, even from young. Of course as siblings go, we have our arguments (both big and small) but they are always resolved within a few hours. We know that built up anger is easily dispersed in time. There are similarities between us and differences as well. We share a similar sarcastic sense of humour with a love for Friends, The Big Bang Theory and Mock The Week, yet our food preferences differ wildly.
I used to see other children playing with their sisters and wish for a sister of my own. However, as I grew older I realised God had granted me two wonderful brothers worth more than any sister could fill. They taught me how to be fiercely competitive, how to stick up for myself and how to eat like a pig. While obviously we have matured (to an extent) I still hold those tomboy-ish attitudes close to my heart. Something my brothers and I often do is randomly hit/punch/kick each other (particularly when we’re all at home together). This is not something to hurt or injure the other party; but simply to annoy. While to others it may seem strange, it is something we have done all our lives and is our own little way of communicating, ‘I am glad you’re home.’
My brothers work hard at what they do and for some reason I am beaming with pride today. I hope I can make them just as proud when I graduate at the end of this upcoming academic year!