My Younger Older Brother

I have an early memory with my brother, on our old hallway staircase, of me sitting on top of him, pinning his arms down, and hitting him while he cried and begged me to stop. He was helpless, and seeing him helpless made me feel powerful. Part of me knew what I was doing was wrong, but it felt good to hurt him; it was one of the ways I relieved the pain inside of me. I never thought about how he might have felt, or how I was hurting him; I only thought about myself. As the years went on, the anger in me grew and so did the envy and hatred towards my brother. I was jealous of him in many ways: I thought he was funnier than me, better looking than me, and more popular than me. In a way, I wanted to destroy him, and I tried, through physical and emotional abuse.

Although our fights weren’t always one-sided, for many years my age and size gave me an advantage over him, until it didn’t. One day during our high school years, we were in our bedroom and I probably wasn’t getting my way, so I resorted to what I usually did – fighting. But I had not been paying close attention; Yianni had hit puberty and joined the wrestling team. So while Yianni and I were fighting, and I went to grab him and hit him, he quickly maneuvered behind me and put me in a wrestling hold. In that moment everything changed; now I was the one who was helpless, and I had to beg Yianni for mercy. As I waited for him to take his revenge on me, after all those years of abuse, something strange happened – it never came. Yianni didn’t need to hurt me to feel better about himself; he was confident and merciful. He was learning to deal with his suffering in a different way than me. After I agreed to his terms, he let me go, and I felt humiliated. I probably laughed at him afterwards, hurling verbal assaults his way, trying to hide my embarrassment, but I was exposed. That day, my brother humbled me, and although I didn’t know it at the time, I began to learn from him. 

Still, the anger, disrespect, and ill-will towards my brother came out often. I continued to mistreat him throughout the rest of high school, college, and in the years after. The way I treated him was a reflection of my internal state, and there was chaos inside of me. Only when my life felt like it was coming apart could I see how I was destroying myself and those closest to me. In the following years, I tried to repair the damage I caused my brother. I tried to tell the truth. I apologized for how I treated him, and I tried to be honest and open about how this affected not only our relationship but our family. With the help of my brother our relationship slowly started to change. We began to enjoy each other’s company without the threat of me abusing him in some way, and Yianni started to become one of my closest friends. I began to notice how after hanging out with him I’d feel lighter; things would be clearer. His compassionate listening made me feel seen and heard. He was helping me to make sense of my life. Being in my brother’s presence was bringing me closer to myself. The hate inside of me was being replaced with love, and there were times where I’d be hiking in the mountains, or other times, while driving in the car, where my brother’s face would come to my mind and I’d cry. I felt so lucky to be able to go through life with a brother like mine. 

*** 

I had always been jealous of Yianni’s humor growing up but in recent years it became a great joy in my life. Being able to make others laugh is a superpower, and when things seemed dark, Yianni reminded me to laugh, transforming darkness into light. I remember at times, going over to his apartment, being in a bad mood for what felt like hours or weeks, and then in one moment Yianni would make a joke or do something funny, like fart unexpectedly, and suddenly all my tension would disappear. And the other day when I was in the basement writing this, I heard loud cries from my mother, and then I heard my brother's voice. I stopped to go upstairs; there was excitement in the air. My mom told me Yianni had something to share. After we hugged and greeted each other he said,

“my manager told me I’m being promoted at work. I’m going from being a data analyst to a data ANALyst.”

We all laughed. Yianni’s ability to make me laugh is a gift he often gives me. 

And then there’s his wisdom. Earlier in the year Yianni and I hadn’t talked for over a month. So we got on a video call and updated each other on our lives. He told me about a recent experience he had where he was able to look back on all the years of his life and for each year, see a different version of himself. He saw all of his growth. He saw the bad and the good. He saw the positive changes in his life. He saw how we are always changing and he spoke about himself with respect and care and love, and I began to cry. I cried because I realized how much I missed him. I cried because I had a brother to talk to. I cried because he reminded me to love myself. And I cried because I saw how Yianni was looking within himself for answers and navigating life in his own way. 

In many ways, I now see Yianni as my older brother – I look up to him. And in times of uncertainty I find myself asking, “what would Yianni do?” I am so grateful to have a younger, older brother. 

(from Yianni and Sarah’s wedding 8.20.23)