The sibling trap

Siblinghood is a trap. Every fight, every wound, every cruel word and betrayal that passes between brother and sister is the result of the sibling trap. We were raised to hate each other.

Imagine this: a baby is born. Its parents are fascinated by the tiny human they have brought into being. It wobbles to its feet. It says a word. It has strong legs but skinny arms, likes water but hates wind, is drawn to pink but repelled by blue. It shows amazing talent with a paintbrush but can’t hold a tune to save its life. Everything about this miracle child is a harbinger of the future.

And then, another baby is born. Everything the second child does is interpreted in relation to the first. The elder was an intellectual but the younger is a natural athlete. The first is good with numbers but the next is a wordsmith. The first chases butterflies but the second prefers dinosaurs. The first is shy but the second is the life of the party. And so on it goes.

The sibling trap is constructed by parents, who study and compare and contrast and type their children from the moment they eject from the womb. We are defined and locked into boxes – for life. God help the ‘athlete’ who might just want to stay home one day and read a book, or the ‘mama’s boy’ who wants to spend time with daddy, or the ‘bookworm’ who wants to try solo backpacking, or the ‘black sheep’ (and there always has to be one) who wants to go with the flow for a change. We try to live up to the definitions our parents create for us, and we can never reveal confusion or fear. Our siblings form the backdrop against which we are always compared. If my sister works in retail then I will go to grad school. If my brother buys a house then I will live in a squat. If my sister has children then I will get my tubes tied and travel the world. Little boxes, little boxes, little traps.

We are forged in competition, so it is almost impossible for us to feel genuinely happy for our siblings. There is always a tinge of envy when a sibling scores big points, through a positive coupling or a promotion or a purchase. We are raised to sibling rivalry and subtle warfare, with our parents’ attention and our own self-definition as the spoils. My own mother has been dead for 30 years and yet I still occasionally catch myself trying to impress her, or taking smug delight in the fact that this would really piss her off. The competition for parental attention never ends.

In addition to turning us against each other, our parents – thanks to their meticulous documentation of how we differ – convinced us that we are all SO DIFFERENT from each other. Have you ever had the experience of introducing your sib to a friend, and they say my god you two are so alike! And you say, what?! No! I’m not like her, he’s nothing like me! But we share DNA and a common upbringing. We have the same memories and the same mannerisms. We have the same damn parents! Even when we disagree we are so alike, in so many ways. I imagine that the eulogy my surviving friends will give at my funeral will be almost identical to the one my brother’s friends will deliver about him. They will say, s/he was weird, funny, smart, caring, iconoclastic, stubborn, outspoken, unorthodox. They will say, s/he loved bikes and dogs and people. We are alike, so much more than we are different.

Our parents laid the sibling trap for us with all the best intentions. They loved us. They only wanted to know us and to do right by us, and yet, they fucked up – like every parent, everywhere. But I propose this, to those of you who are estranged or embittered against your sibs: it’s not too late. You can save this precious kinship and it is worth the effort. You can still step away and refuse to play the game. You can claim true relationship, but it requires rejecting a lifetime of conditioning and dismantling a fortress of ego protection. It is possible.

You might never be able to say this to your sister or your brother, but you can say it to yourself: I reject this bullshit, and I refuse to play this stupid game any more.

I made that decision a couple of decades ago. I decided I could no longer tolerate the sibling setup between myself and my brother – my one weird and dear and only sib. We have this unique bond of experience which no one else on earth shares. No one else would get that joke! No one else has these legs! To not treasure this is purely tragic.

My brother still occasionally says awful, hurtful things to me. He knows that I am the only person he can say them to who will not walk away. And no matter what judgmental crap I might think about him, or what thoughtless words I might say to him, I know and I remind myself: we have only each other. Sometimes I step right into the mess, and sometimes an apology is in order. An apology from me. I might crave an apology from him, but I can’t demand it. He didn’t lay the sibling trap – he just stepped in it.

The trap was laid for us but we don’t need to take the bait. Our relationship is priceless and our lives are short. We were raised as children to hate each other. But we are grownups now.

Photos by Scott: my brother Bennett and me. Same nose, same moose legs, same twisted sense of humor, same hairdo.