The Only Good Thing to Come Out of My Childhood is My Younger Siblings

While I’ve probably mentioned my older sibling with some frequence (he is the source of a significant portion of my childhood trauma, after all), I don’t think I’ve mentioned my two of my younger siblings nearly as much. A fact I’d like to rectify as I reflect on a funny moment from a few years ago that I was reminded of yesterday evening while talking with some friends. Given that we’re all from the same difficult family situation, we’ve all got a great deal of individual baggage. A lot of it is similar, but the last few years make it pretty clear that we all reacted to and were harmed by our shared childhood in our own unique ways. As we’ve all done what we each needed to gain distance and perspective, we drifted apart a bit. In the past few years, as I started to work through stuff after our grandfather passed away and opened up about stuff I had previously protected them from and kept hidden, we’ve slowly reconnected and grown closer than ever.

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