Being the youngest sibling is great. You have built-in friends, someone to keep you humble, somebody who passes down all of their wisdom. Eventually, though, being the youngest sibling can be lonely. Because before you know it, your siblings leave, and now you’re an “only child.”
I always knew that being the youngest in my family meant I would be the last one to leave the house. It was something that always hummed in the back of my mind, but it didn’t become a reality until my sister left for college and my brother entered his senior year of high school. Next year, I will officially become the honorary “only child” in my family.
Even with just one of my siblings gone, the house feels way emptier than it did before. It’s a weird absence not having my sister in the room next door, or seeing her throughout the day in various rooms of the house. I’ve been trying to picture what it will be like next year when it is just me in the house.
Sure, it’s only two years before I graduate high school, but that’s two whole years without my siblings around. That thought is still surreal. The fact that my siblings are old enough to go off and live on their own doesn’t seem quite right to me, because to me, they are still the siblings that I grew up with and saw every day of my life.
When kids move out of the house, parents are expected to have “empty-nester syndrome,” but with my siblings leaving, I feel a secondary empty nest atmosphere in my house. The roles that my siblings and I grew up in are changing, leaving me as the only kid in the house. I used to be the youngest who hung around my older siblings and (maybe just slightly) annoyed them.
My whole life, my siblings were my biggest mentors and inspirations. Though I’m sure it got annoying, they never knew how much it meant to me to absorb all of their advice and wisdom like a sponge. What kind of music is good? What’s in style? Which teachers do I want next school year? I was shaped as a person by growing up with two older siblings to tell me these things—I would have believed anything they told me.
I know that I was the annoying little sibling, and we fought plenty, but now that their departure is becoming a reality, I wish it could go back to all of us living in the same house and in similar lives. I wish I could go just as far as the room next door to ask my sister to go shopping, and I wish my brother and I could go on morning Starbucks runs before school. I know that everybody grows up and goes their own way, but it all came sooner than I thought it would.
Even now, I take advice from my siblings. I’m watching as they move into the next phases of their lives, taking notes on things to remember for when I go off to college one day. I will have a better idea of what to expect because of the two people—with two different perspectives—who can tell me all the things I need to know.
I watched as my siblings got their driver’s licenses, got accepted into college, I watched my sister move into her dorm. All the while, I stored those experiences in the back of my mind, waiting to use them when I arrive at those various phases of my life. I’m sure that I annoyed the heck out of my siblings growing up, but now it feels like my built-in friends are drifting as they move away and experience new things, and I am happy to watch them succeed in life.
So now, with my brother mere months away from graduation and my sister on her second year at college, I am getting closer to becoming the only kid left in the house. The norm that I grew up with—having my siblings around—is going to change, and I know it’s going to leave a weird emptiness in my house for the two years before I graduate. Who knew that one day I would actually miss getting annoyed by my siblings every day? I sure didn’t.
