When I write a blog post, I try to write about things that the average reader can relate to. All of the trials and tribulations, struggles and eventual victories that we all go through along the way in this game called life. Today's post is the story about me and my vainglorious brother who has been gifted with everything except the one thing he needs the most...
If you know anything about The Beatles, You'll know that of the members of the band John, Paul, George and Ringo, Paul was called "the cute one" that's also what my brother was known as. The CUTE one, not me; HIM.
And he made sure I knew about it as often as possible...
And me? We'll I sure as hell didn't look like him. I was more of a regular "plain John." You know, not ugly, but not movie-star handsome like he was.
(Notice I said "was" that'll come up later, so keep it in mind).
No, I was known as "the smart one" to his cuteness (I also had to be the "fleet" one, as I was always running home from the bullies after refusing to let them cheat off of me during tests).
If there was a mirror nearby, he was parked right in front of it admiring his looks. He was in love with himself. Running his hands through his long hair while making fun of my short strands, which grew to a certain length and then stopped as if my body was sending all excess nutrients to my brain instead.
Everyone fawned all over him, but this didn't affect my self-esteem at all, because I've always been happy when people do well. I never get jealous, instead, I try to find out what they did so that I could replicate it myself.
But I couldn't replicate his looks. However, my strong sense of self always kept me grounded, because while he may have had the face of a celebrity, bro didn't have a brain in that handsome little head of his.
Zero, zilch, nada.
Nothing "up there." N-o-t-h-i-n-g.
Not Gloating, just Grateful
When I'd go to a barber shop, he was the only teen boy that I knew that went to a salon in order to get his hair "done." Ointments, creams, lotions, hairnets, you'd think he was being done up for a movie shoot. I half expected to hear "Quiet on the set!" when he was around.
All of the girls wanted to date him, and the guys wanted to be him. Not me, I was just fine being myself.
He put me down every chance he got. He was the sports guy, and I was the nerdish bookworm with a voracious appetite for learning. Brother would always remind me that he would always be better than me, more handsome and popular that I'd ever be. I'd tell him that we were each given gifts to us by God, and I would play the hand that was dealt to me.
I was also the healthy one, and to this day, I almost never get sick. He was always ill and being sent off to the doctor. I've been blessed with good health and I thank God for that.
Sure, who wouldn't want o be a little better looking or more popular, right? But even as a boy, I always saw looks and popularity as something that could be lost. One accident, and your looks could be gone, say the wrong thing and you're canceled, with your fleeting popularity flying away like an angry bird.
Nah, I was fine just the way I was.
I was proven right, too.
Like my absent "father" he started losing his silken locks of hair not long after graduating high school. By the time he turned 22, his hair was thinning like a middle-aged man, with a resultant loss of attention from the ladies.
It was sad to see how this affected him.
His side of the family is faux religious and VERY judgemental. They're "pro life" but when my cousin got pregnant at 13, they hustled her off for a quickie secret abortion. Yeah, right, "pro life" when it suits them.
In the pulpit hey rage against homosexuality, but that the pastors son is gay is a well kept secret. Stuff like that, you get the idea. This is where my brother learned about the condemnation against me for the sin of being born to an unwed mother.
The horror!
Carry On Wayward Son
In 1976, the rock band Kansas released a song titled Carry On Wayward Son and the following lyrics inspired this post when I heard the song playing recently:
Carry on my wayward son
For there'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
For years I forgave his constant put-downs of me in front of his friends. The last straw for me was when he gloated about inheriting a house, a car, and a load of money from our grandfather, while I was left out of the will for being born illegitimate (something I had no choice in).
He informed me that he was always going to remind me that HE was the favored son while I would always be considered the bastard.
Something changed between us in that moment, when I asked him if he was going to continue this behavior throughout our lives, and he said "yes." I was done. "Look, I had zero control over who dad decided to just sleep with, and who he decided to marry.
I had no control over the circumstances of my birth, in fact, He could have been the bastard son instead of me. So I told him "I can't have you putting me down for that for the rest of my life, so if you can't change and show me respect as your brother, it looks like we'ere done here." I wished him well with his newfound wealth and material possessions, and told him to never speak to me again.
And that was that. We've never spoken since, and I'm absolutely fine with it.
It was something I'd considered doing for a long time, and the gloating and insults after my grandfat6hers death was the final spark that lit the flame for me to take action.
To this day he hasn't changed, and I don't know that he ever will.
Sometimes you have to cut negative people out of your life like the dead-weight that they are. It was the right decision for me so that I could move forward in positivity.
If I die tomorrow, I'll be content knowing that I lightened the load for so many people. Done FAR more good than bad. Spoke up and took action when I saw injustice, and smashed through the Bystander Effect, by speaking up and snapping people out of their inertia.
"YOU, DON'T JUST STAND THERE, CALL FOR HELP!" Giving bystanders a specific task can often break the spell of them freezing in place. I'm also not at all afraid to shame people into doing the right thing: "IF THAT WAS YOUR SISTER, WOULD YOU JUST STAND AND WATCH, OR WOULD YOU TAKE ACTION? LET'S CARRY HER TO SAFETY, MOVE HER!!"
Being the one to speak up can start a chain reaction ans produce effective assistance.
I love cheering people on when they win, and I never get jealous when someone succeeds due to hard work and determination. The Tale Of Two Brothers is a cautionary tale of what can happen when you let your gifts go to your (balding) head. Life is a blessing, so if you were given a gift, be grateful for what you've got, and show grace to those less fortunate than you, or you could lose it all in the blink of an eye.
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Your brother is a total narcissist... I'm glad you cut off ties. And I wonder if he's balding now🤔🤔🤔
Oh yeah, there's just a few wisps of hair left on top, and with a beer belly, the looks are gone as well. When we were boys, I didn't know what a narcissist was, or that there were people out there with almost no sense of guilt combined with excessive pride. Years later when I read about the symptoms, I could clearly see him in them. Thanks for your support.
Wow. What an utter prick. Glad it didn't bring you to your knees and you had the ability to stay true to your core.
Yes, papa was a rolling stone indeed. He actually met and started dating my mother first. He got her pregnant, but while they were planning their wedding, she found out he'd gotten another girl pregnant as well. My brother and I were born 2 months apart. But because he was born first and my father married his mother, my mother was seen by his family as THE OTHER WOMAN, and I was labeled the bastard child.
This caused such an issue with my mothers family that he actually offered to divorce my brothers mother and marry my mother since she was his original girlfriend. I have 2 other half-brothers from him that I've never met and numerous half-sisters, with rumors of even MORE secret "love children" as well. Dad is a piece of work indeed, but my brothers constant put-downs of me in front of his friends, finally caused our rift.
Peace
It is an interesting story
Thank you for sharing
Regards