My sister and I are very different people. We always have been. As children, our differences were easy to spot. My room was always neat and clean. Hers looked like a tornado touched down in it. I brought home report cards with all As. Hers looked like alphabet soup. I woke early, usually singing or laughing. She complained when “the sun woke her up” at 2 o’clock in the afternoon and was surly the rest of the day as a result. She was rowdy and outgoing and I was quiet and bookish.
We are different, my sister and I.
Now, the differences may not be quite as apparent from the outside. We have grown to look a little more alike and we have the same wicked sense of humor. We wear our hearts on our sleeves and yet are two of the strongest people I know. We love each other without bounds but can only tolerate small doses of each other at a time. We see the world so completely differently. If you have been reading here for a while, you know that I am pretty liberal and an avid supporter of equality, human and animal rights, and conserving and protecting our planet. If you took a photo of what you perceive my heart and soul to be, the negative of it would be my sister’s. I love her, I do, but we could not be farther apart on religion, politics or personal philosophies. Please note, I am not implying either of us is good or bad, just different.
I have always wondered how two people who were raised in the same house, with the same parents, turned out so differently. Were we simply born with different personalities or were our experiences and environments really as similar as I would have believed?
Reading parenting blogs has made me think about this again. I am not sure if the mom and pop bloggers themselves even realize it, but they have become different people over the years and as they add children to the household. It is evident in their writing.
The first child has parents who are intent and attentive, almost to the point of obsessive. Every squeak, burp, and diaper change is analyzed. Everything that is showered on that child is new, or at least new to the family,…toys, books, clothes, the nursery room furniture. Videos and photos are taken at every occasion and Tuesday can be an occasion. The first child also gets to be victim to rookie parenting mistakes once in a while but overall, the first child is the sun and the moon for the parents.
Then child number two (or three or four) comes along and while still loved and adored and cared for with great tenderness, it is different. The parents know what they are getting into this time. Not every day is an eye-opening event. Some of the things that the first child had are reused for this child. Videos and photos are still taken but not as many, not as often. Let’s face it, the parents are tired. And child number one is still out there, exploring, growing, and reaching all sorts of new milestones that fascinate and awe.
Of course, you know I am oversimplifying and generalizing here. Not every situation plays out like this but I think you would agree that parents do change as they mature in the role. My point being, my sister and I were raised in the same house, yes, but I no longer naively believe we were raised by the same parents. Not only were our parents three and a half years into the gig by the time my sister came along, there were other factors as well.
Dad is a first born and I am his first born. Now consciously or not, I think that gave us a bond that he just couldn’t have with my sister. He had a lot of responsibility as a child in his family and I think he wanted to instill in me that same sense of what it means to be the oldest sibling. He taught me from a young age what it means to be in charge, be accountable and work hard so we spent a lot of time together. Mom is the third child in her family and was told from the beginning that she wasn’t wanted. Dad didn’t want to have a second child with my mother. Who doesn’t think that our parents’ relationships with my sister, the second born, wouldn’t be colored by that?
In the previous post where I talked about my dad and gave you a glimpse into our relationship is an example. That dad is not the dad my sister knows. My sister has no such memories and does not have that kind of father-daughter relationship from which to draw strength. She and my dad have always been at odds. Likewise, my mother and I had a tumultuous relationship and she and my sister were very close. In our childhood home, it was always two against two.
And just to throw a monkey wrench into what you may be thinking right now, as adults, I am exactly like our mother in temperament and character and she is exactly like our father. You did not expect that, did you? How does life work that way?
What I would like to figure out is, are my sister and I different today because we were just born with different personalities or did our parents mold us in to two different people with the subtle and not so subtle ways in which they treated us differently? I imagine it is a combination of the two.
What do you think? Are you and your siblings more alike or very different? How much do you think is caused by your innate personalities and how much by your upbringing?
