By Anthony Economy
I’ve had two root canals, a crown insertion, and a chip repair performed on my teeth. Were these the results of some near-death accident? No, these were the trials of being the youngest of five brothers.
We grew up in chaos. On any given day, half our household could be engaged in the most heated argument, screaming insults that echoed through the neighborhood, while the other half relaxed on the couch to watch primetime football. My brother John and I were most often part of the “troubled” half.
John was notorious for his ability to get under anyone’s skin. Being the youngest and most sensitive, I was his easiest target. For years, he made it clear all my creative hobbies were an embarrassment, my speech impediment was to be mocked, and my intelligence should be ashamed of. His words always overpowered mine. On numerous occasions, I shot back–and on a few of those occasions, he sent me to the dentist. I felt small, knowing that nothing I said would ever hurt him to the extent his words hurt me.
The insecurities he planted in my head at a young age stuck with me. I worked hard in my early teenage years to prove him wrong. I expanded on my creativity and built models of my favorite cars from scratch. I took speech therapy classes in middle school to get rid of my lisp. I earned perfect grades to eliminate his doubts about my intelligence. Those insecurities slowly faded away, and I became proud of my accomplishments. However, I realized the only person who ever forced me to meet my brother’s conditions–was me. I never had to prove anything to him. I could have achieved those accomplishments without letting my anger consume our relationship as brothers.
I’ve stopped allowing his criticisms to control my actions, and surprisingly–he stopped criticizing! No matter what, John and I have the same blood–and we will always be part of the same team. As we rebuild our relationship, our understanding of one another deepens, and we are finally able to live up to the title “brothers.”