Last night, my brother woke me up in the middle of the night, crying. He felt a pain in his leg that he could not understand — growing pains. He is fifteen, with a late growth spurt. I could barely open my eyes — it was 2 AM — but when neither my mom or dad got up, I gave in. With an Advil and a heating pad, I tucked him back into bed, and came back to my room. But I could not fall asleep right away.
So I decided to write something about, yes, growing pains. Whether you are an only child, an older or younger sibling, everyone experiences their own growing pains. Small things, moments, that mold you into who you are as a sibling, and as a person. For me, my growing pains are specifically about growing up as an older sister of a brother who is ten years younger, and who is on the spectrum. What I learned about myself through my brother, how the world viewed him, and how I fought back against what I saw as an unfair place.
My growing pains are also about the beautiful moments, moments that would have been undoubtedly different if my brother were not on the spectrum.
These stories are for my brother to read eventually, but also for others to better understand my brother for who he truly is. For those who found it hard to approach him or accept him because of labels, because of the different way he socially interacts with people. Most of all, because my brother deserves someone who knows and appreciates him more than anyone in the world to show the sides of him that others don’t bother to see.
These are my growing pains. The process of growing up. Yes, sometimes crying. But Justin, you’ll one day realize that after those tears, after those long nights of holding back the pain, that’s when you realize you’ve grown just a teeny bit.