My younger brother, David, has always harbored a deep-seated resentment towards me. If you think it stemmed from jealousy, you’d be wrong. He was the favored child, not me. There was no reason for him to be envious. To give you some context, our mother always indulged David. He was the golden child of our family. She cooked his meals, did his laundry, and even asked me to help him with his schoolwork.
I was expected to assist him simply because we were family, but I never received the same consideration. I accepted this, as I was quite independent. Perhaps it was partly my fault for always meeting his needs without expecting anything in return.
He never helped me when I needed it, and only approached me when he wanted something. While I was a quiet introverted kid who enjoyed studying and keeping to myself, he was loud and rough, just like our dad. I also tend to be straightforward and honest, never sugar-coating things.
I believe my mother may have developed a negative perception of me because of my straightforwardness. This favoritism made David the family’s darling, and I didn’t mind it while we were growing up. However, problems began when he started bullying and mocking me for being different from him.
He would tease me about my height and the fact that I wore glasses. He would sneak into my room, read my diary, and then complain to my mom about what I had written. When I yelled at him and complained to our parents about him invading my privacy, they would laugh it off, saying it wasn’t a big deal.
He did more awful things, like nearly breaking my glasses and putting nasty things in my food. He even once put little stones in my cereal, but luckily, I found them before they could damage my teeth. When I told my mom, she dismissed it, saying this is how brothers bond.
Whenever we fought, David would zero in on my insecurities to insult me. We went to the same school, so he knew I was being bullied by a few kids. Instead of supporting me, he sided with the bullies, calling me names like, ugly loser, or hairy monkey, and encouraging them to physically harm me, saying I was just a big failure.
Another time, during a fight over something trivial that I can’t even remember, he told me to kill myself. While I could easily brush off most insults, that one really hurt because I was struggling with my mental health at the time. I’m doing better now, but it was devastating to hear that my own brother wanted me dead.
Since dad was often at work and mom didn’t seem to care much, she even scolded me once, claiming it was my fault for irritating him. Things progressively worsened. During high school, there was a shocking incident when David attempted to set my hair on fire, and unbelievably, our mother defended him, claiming he was merely playing.
Seriously, who behaves like that? Thankfully my dad eventually sided with me and pointed out the gravity of the situation. He even threatened to call the police on David. This moment was a real eye-opener for my brother, as he had never faced any consequences for his actions before.
He was genuinely stunned, and my dad made it clear that enough was enough and that David needed to start respecting his older brother. Later, dad came into my room to talk. I never expected his support because he always told David how similar they were, which was true.