Now that I am (albeit debatably depending on who you ask) considered “an adult,” I find myself thinking back to my childhood a lot. Growing up as the only girl with three brothers, life was what you might call a delicate balance, or controlled pandemonium. There are some experiences that a person who is the only girl in a group of brothers can truly know. So, here are some tell-tale signs of growing up with only brothers.
You hated pink.
Growing up I hated pink; still do in fact. Purple is dangerously close as well. From an early age, I got it in my head that if I liked pink and pink things, my brothers would hate me. No, give me green and blue, please.
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You found playing army more appealing than playing with dolls.
Guns and camo or skinny dolls with weird plastic accessories and clothing (mostly pink mind you)? *Cue machine gun sounds emitting from my mouth*
You constantly looked like a mess.
Unless you caught me on a Sunday, you can bet I would be found with bangs askew and a brush as far away as possible. I once asked my mom why I looked so wild in pictures – apparently, I ran when she tried to make me more presentable.
You wore their hand-me-downs.
For the first nine to ten years of my life I had a unique sense of style; Who wouldn’t love a baggy t-shirt, cargo shorts, black calf socks and white Velcro shoes? Those little loop things that are always on guys pants, SO USEFUL.
Your fashion choices are impeccable.
When I got into high school and started buying my own clothes I kept it pretty simple. No glitter, ruffles, and absolutely, under no circumstances, sequins. Instead, jeans and a v-neck was my go-to outfit. Oh, and big comfy hoodies, can’t forget those wonderful creations.
What’s makeup?
I started wearing makeup long after all my friends did. I never had older sisters showing me what to do or how to apply it, so when I got to college, my roommates did their best to educate me. When it comes down to it, I’ve found I should stick to mascara and maybe a tad bit of eyeliner.
You feel more comfortable around your guy friends than your girlfriends.
It’s so much easier to bro out.
Sports, Sports, Sports.
My parents were nervous that I would be a complete klutz if I didn’t take ballet as a child. As I got older and busier, I had to choose between soccer and ballet – obvious choice for me. Also, while I’ve never had a team, I love watching Sunday afternoon football as much as the next person. March Madness? Yes. World Cup? YES.
You've develop a heightened sense to your surroundings.
Boys will be boys. Being a moving target during your brothers’ game of rubber band wars really teaches you to scope out every room you walk into.
You were, and still are, better protected than the President of the United States.
No matter the fights we’ve had, I know one thing for sure, my brothers love me fiercely. They are all nice, caring guys who wouldn’t hurt anyone, but mess with their sister and you will regret it.
They are your best friends.
I can’t think of any people I’d rather hang out with than my brothers.
More than likely, you think of yourself as a having been a Tom Boy growing up – I believe that’s a pretty high compliment. The Brothers, as I so lovingly call my own three brothers, are the wittiest, smartest, goofiest, and all around enjoyable people to be around. If it came down to it, I would be content if the only people I could hang out with were these goofs because truly,
“There’s no other love like the love for a brother. There’s no other love like the love from a brother” (Terri Guillemets).
