…Words you don’t want to hear whispered in your ear as you sleep. By your sister. Who’s standing over you. Wth a pillow in her hands…
Parents have favorites. So says my husband. So on the heels of “sibling day” (Seriously, does every day need to be special?), I thought we’d take a closer look at his hypothesis.
Query: Can a parent truly love each of his/her children equally?
Answer: Nope. Sorry to break it to you, but someone had to. They won’t, for fear of the consequences, namely that you’ll stop trying to please them. Look, it’s ok for you to suspect your parents like your sibling better. Parents don’t mind this at all. You’ll keep trying to please them to get top billing and the favorite will keep trying to please them to retain the title. [Isn’t sibling rivalry precious?]. See, that way your parents can’t lose. Oh, it’s a twisted game they play, parents. Twisted and self-serving. So they keep up the sham. They know a good thing…
The harsh reality is that all children are not created equal. There’s always one who’s just better than the others. The pretty one. The one who’s better in school, better at sports. Has a better boyfriend/girlfriend, spouse, job, whatever. Who’s more…good. (This is why my brother will forever be known as “Billy-So-Good”). Can you fault their parents for loving them more? The others are just, well, mediocre. Average. Jan Brady. Not any trouble but nothing to brag about. You know what I’m talking about. [“It’s always Marcia this, Marcia that. Marcia Marcia Marcia!”] Then of course there are the black sheep, the fuck-ups. You know who you are. Yeah. Your folks tell you they love you the same but they’re lying. [Oh, come on, people. I’m not tellin ’em anything they don’t already know] Now of course they love you too (I’m sure. Probably). But as much ? Well, as much as they can.
I argue here that love cannot be defined, let alone quantified. So let’s just accept that parents love each of their children differently. Take note when they look at your sibling and sigh and you know they’re thinking “Oh, look at her. DAMN, we did a good job! I love her SO MUCH!” And then they look at you and you know they’re thinking “So much for that dream yoga studio in the basement. We really fucked-up with this one. But she’s ours and we love her…” And then comes the sigh (that seals the deal). Do they honestly not know we see through their weak attempts to mask their favoritism? [They may suspect as much, however, after “accident” when you can’t account for your whereabouts. Or that missing pillow] I bet if confronted you’ll see the guilt in their eyes. When you do, well, knowledge is power, baby! Go with it. Oh, I don’t mean bail outs, lawyers, and shrinks. Surely you can be more creative than that. I’m talkin’ livin’ rent-free. Car AND insurance. Credit cards. Oh, guilt money is GOOD money.
You think we would’ve learned by now that sibling rivalry can be a dangerous game. Brotherly love takes on a green tint ’cause deep down every kid wants to be the favorite. Loving parents sow the seeds of resentment and hostility and even (GASP) hatred (dun-dun-dun-DAAAH). [Don’t you people read Shakespeare?] How many years of therapy (or maximum security) is it gonna take before you understand that the root of all your problems is that your folks loved your sis/bro better? It’s the reason you’re such a “people pleaser,” an affliction which leads to foolish acts like marrying the wrong person, choosing the wrong career. Buying the too big house or the too expensive car. Being a brown-nose to your teachers, a kiss ass to your boss. Always saying yes because “no” would disappoint someone (What? Need a ride to the airport? On my day off? At 5 am? No problem! Help moving? On my birthday? I’m there!) Even doing things you knew were wrong, like that time you (fill in the blank) and ended up getting your ass kicked which ended up with you spending the night in the county Hilton ( I don’t know who I was trying to please that time. I mean “Who were you trying to please that time?”) Gee, thanks Mom and Dad.
ANYWAY…
Want my advice? GET OVER IT. That’s right. Let that shit go already. You’re all growed up now and you don’t need to please anyone but yourself. Besides, whether you’re the favorite or the fuck-up your parents are stuck with you (and rightly so since it’s all their fault how you turned out). And they love you.
Yes, even you. Just not the same.