# Thoughts about my family - PART 4: My Brother



## decided (May 17, 2009)

I have been thinking about my family. My place in it, the way it works, and the things that I remember about growing up surrounded by these people. I decided to write down and type up my memories and thoughts, and post it all here.

Please be aware that this is all very very very personal to me, and it is all my own personal perspective, so please be gentle if you decide to comment.

*My brother*
My brother and I got along quite well as children. He was intelligent, interesting and fun. Most of the time he was very nice to me, but I never felt protected by him – but this was fine by me; I always wanted to take the world on by myself anyway.

When my sister was born, he started staying at my nana’s house 5 nights a week. I don’t know why, even though I asked about it a lot. I learned to hate “Cos” as an answer. It’s just frustrating. Anyway, I remember that when he was at our house my sister and I would do chores – little things like setting the table and doing the dishes – while he would have all of my mother’s attention. We waited on him like he was a guest. His room was kept empty for him 5 nights a week, while my sister and I shared a room. I would often ask to have his room for those nights, so that I could have my own space, but I was always refused. This was when I realised that he was my mother’s favourite. My brother has never struck it out by himself; he is still overly attached to my mother and my nana, and their way of thinking. He always did what he was told, and was rewarded with praise. He still lives with my nana, but he stopped coming back to my mother’s house sometime in the last few years.

I was not a naughty child, but I was curious, determined, and I always wanted fairness. My brother thought I was argumentative, opinionated, and a problem-maker – and so did my mother and nana. I remember one time during dinner I was speaking about something I knew I was right about, and as soon as I finished my brother said: “The trash heap has spoken” in a rudely mocking tone. It was a reference to Fraggle Rock, where they are in awe of a magical oracle, but he didn't say it in the same tone. Everybody laughed, and it upset me. When I told them that it was mean and not funny, they told me to stop taking myself so seriously. It still upsets me to remember this incident.

Another incident involving my brother upsetting me was on my 21st birthday. My parents had been separated for 3 years by this point, but I asked them all to go out for dinner with me. They agreed, but once we got sat around the table my brother and mother pulled out a huge hard-covered book, and propped it open in front of them so they could read it together. It created an instant block to communication. For a while my sister tried to get them to talk to the rest of us, but eventually she, my father and I just talked amongst ourselves. My father was really nice, and tried to be friendly and talkative, but my mother and brother just would not speak to anybody else. I cried in the car to my sister for ages afterwards.

Now that I think about it, that was probably a pivotal incident for me – it was the incident that made me really analyse my family’s behaviours. I came to understand that my mother and nana had been feeding me their opinions about my father (and a lot of other things too) for years, and that my brother and sister had bought into it wholesale. I realised that I wasn’t like them, and I didn’t want to be like them. I was in a long-distance relationship at that stage, and I realised that I was more than willing to move to Christchurch to get away from their crap.


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