The Unfavorite

I don’t think that I was ever my parents’ favorite child. It’s not like they didn’t love me, but they just never loved me quite as much as my brother. It’s something that I’ve noticed all my life. I also feel like other family members noticed it, too, they just never said anything directly to my parents about it. Whether it would be a comment on how my mom “babied” my younger brother, or other relatives going the extra mile for me, specifically. I’ve especially noticed it now as an adult, since my relatives could cut out the middleman, i.e., my parents.

My younger brother was joined at the hip with my dad; they were practically partners in crime. I feel like it had a lot to do with the fact that my brother was, obviously, a boy. I always noticed it in the way that my dad was far more lenient with my brother than he was with me. It had always felt like I had way more expectations than my brother. I was always walking a fine line in the way I behaved, performed in school, or keeping up with household responsibilities. I also was not given a lot of leeway whenever I didn’t meet expectations. My punishments tended to be more severe for things that my brother would just get a slap on the wrist for.

With my mom, it was a different brand of favoritism. I’m not really sure where it stemmed from. Maybe it had been because she had also been the youngest sibling in her family. Or maybe it had even been because my brother nearly died when she was giving birth to him. After all, she had literally called him her “miracle child”, courtesy of the movie “Joseph: King of Dreams”, our entire lives. It resulted in her always coddling him and caving to any of his demands. If he wanted my toy, I had to give it to him, even if I was playing with it. If he had a broken Pop-tart, which was a thing with him, I would have to trade with him. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if it wasn’t something that happened all of the time.

It may sound like I am bitter over this, but I’m not; not really. I’m just hurt, mainly because it still continues to this day. It’s a little bit worse now, considering how my family dynamic has changed. My parents are no longer together, and it was, to put politely, not an amicable separation. It was a very, very ugly ordeal. My brother no longer speaks to my father due to a big falling out between the two. You would think that this would somehow change the fact that he’s the “golden child”, but you would be incorrect.

With my father, even though my brother does not currently have a relationship with him, my dad still very much wants one. The only connection that he has with my brother is me. So, often times, I’m used as a way to contact my brother, despite my being clear that my brother desires his space. It makes me feel used. I didn’t mind giving advice on how to repair the relationship. I also didn’t mind passing on a letter that my dad had written as an apology for his past actions. It’s just now, he’s made me the designated person to handle all of the interactions between my brother and himself. I’ve let my brother’s feelings be made clear: he’s not sure if he’s ready to attempt a relationship yet; give him space. Yet, what I say is ignored and he continues to ask me to do stuff or pass on messages. Which, my dad would probably be angry to know, I don’t pass on all of them to my brother, since it is starting to impact my own relationship with my brother. I love my brother and I don’t want to damage the relationship that I have with him. While I understand and am empathetic to where my dad is coming from, I am also entitled to feel the way that I feel.

With my mom, it’s a bit more difficult. Due to my trying to repair my relationship with my father, she resents me. Initially, when I told her that I wanted to try and patch things up with my dad, she told me she understood and was okay with it; he is my father, after all. Over time, this attitude changed. She became more passive-aggressive, saying biting little remarks in ways that you would have to read between the lines to notice. One example is that she had said that my dad’s now-fiancée is dumb for wanting to be with him and that she didn’t know what she was getting into. This, of course, could just be passed off as the words of someone who was hurt really badly by my dad. Which is fair, on her part. Then, in the very next breath, she stated that my brother was “so wise” for not trying to repair his relationship with our dad. I don’t feel that I’m reading too much into things when I say that the subtext was clear: she was saying that I was dumb for trying to repair my relationship with my father. In a later conversation, she essentially confirmed what I had already thought. She had said, verbatim, that “she wanted to resent me for having a relationship with my dad”. This got a reaction out of me. “Wanted to?” After which, she corrected herself saying that she already did. It was a very conflicting moment for me. I was happy that it was all out in the open now and that it wasn’t all in my head, but it still hurt. To hear that your parent resents you for something that you can’t help but to want: a healed relationship with the other parent.

I know that I may come across as ungrateful in this. My parents still love me, that much I know. There are people out there who deal with a lot worse from their parents and here I am complaining that my sibling and I aren’t loved as equally as I would like. I feel selfish just typing it out. I just couldn’t keep it in anymore, though. It’s frustrating, it hurts, and I can’t help but wonder why it is that I have always fallen short? What is it about me that just doesn’t shine as brightly as my brother? It’s even more frustrating knowing that I will never know because my parents would deny it to their dying breath. I’m just at a loss of what to do.