It’s hard to avoid comparisons when you have three older siblings.

Parents, teachers, coaches, teammates—they all note the similarities and differences between us. Their attitudes differ depending on which child they had to go through before me, but whether it’s mentally or verbally, they pay heed.

“You have the same laugh as your brother.” 

“You and your sister look exactly alike.” 

“I knew you’d be a good student; you’re just like your sister.”

When I’m told these things, I just smile and nod. Of course we are all so similar; we share DNA. We came from and were raised by the same amazing people. We have been taught by identical influential figures. 

More importantly, though, we shared rooms; we shared responsibilities. We spent time together—mostly willingly. We lived through lessons that we taught each other, unknowingly growing into who we are today. We wore the same clothes until the very last thread. We still do. Only with each other did we endure our toughest situations. 

Our identical lives formed who we are, so it is understandable that you assume we are all exactly alike.

In reality, us Gavle children are all very different. Each one of my older siblings varies in personality and skill: athletic and clever, creative and kindhearted, handy and affable. Mega tomboy, wild girly-girl, little hooligan. By watching my siblings become who they are, I became myself: a motley of them all.

There are certain traits that seem to run rampant in my entire family’s veins. Wittiness is strong among us; we were all given the same powerful legs. Our laughter, despite slight discrepancies, is equally distinctive and uncommon. When we walk, our feet crack. A subtle shift in position can cause a chain reaction of pops and snaps throughout our bodies. 

These characteristics, along with many more, make my family a family. A crazy, wacky, dysfunctional family. Similar but different, steady but hectic. My siblings cause petty fights and irrelevant arguments because of our analogy, but they also create fun and excitement. Moments worth savoring have them in it.

I’m well aware that I look and laugh like my siblings, but it’s okay; you can keep on telling me. I take it as a compliment.