This was in 1975, and later on that summer, my mom, my younger brother and I took a plane to Jamaica. Recollections of the plane ride: my younger brother constantly asking, "Are we gonna crash?", the Flight Attentant giving me wings to pin to my outfit, swallowing to pop my ears, seeing the clouds outside the window so close-up, and seeing Jamaica down below. Up to that point, I thought Jamaica was in Africa. I got to meet my Aunts and Uncles, my grandparents, my cousins and a few other kids, but I couldn't see this older brother, whom I'd only seen in a much younger black and white photo. I was expecting him to be really hip and cool, but otherwise I didn't know what would actually happen; I left it up to chance. Anyway, grandma calls him by name, and this laconic-afro'd kid with a dark birthmark around his right eye drags himself into the room (It faded through the years and you can't see it anymore). I was just slightly intrigued, observing him whenever I spotted him, trying to take in that this guy is related to me. I'd see how he'd hold back tears, clenching his fists to ball up the pain and move on whenever he'd fall and hurt himself. He'd run around bare-foot as most Jamaican kids did, but he was still a stranger to me. "You two look alike", I'd hear from a couple of relatives, so I'd catch him in the mirror and I'd stand beside him to see what they were talking about: nothing. No resemblence whatsoever.

I took in the sights of Jamaica, saw so many cultural differences, met my half-sister who was 3 years older than I, born to my dad and another woman before he met my mom, but otherwise I couldn't wait to get home. Later on that year, my older brother came to Canada to live with us, and when he arrived with one of my Aunts, he seemed awkward. We stood there for awhile, looking at each other. Life began once we got home, dealing with the culture shock of what Hallowe'en was as a bunch of us took him out, him seeing snow for the first time, him sharing cashew nuts with me that I'd never even had before, his cool drawings and how fast a runner he was whenever the neighbourhood kids had races in the parking lot.

My younger brother liked to be mischievious with him, being a younger sibling and all, so this would piss off my older brother. One day, the younger one comes in crying with blood on his forehead; the older brother was throwing pieces of glass at him because the younger one provoked him: He seemed to do that alot.

A couple of things started to happen.

One day, I thought we were all going to play outside, but they wanted to hang out together, so they swung their arms around each other and walked away from me, seeing their brotherly connection spelled out to me. Mom and Dad bought both of them a pair of shoes; seeing their runners parked side by side, I wondered why I didn't get a pair, why mine weren't near theirs. I was often considered just the girl, like that were a bad thing. They'd pick on me, my body was often a target. Sometimes I got to hang out with them, but I still felt like I was just the tag-a-long. I went from being the older sister to being the third wheel. I loved both of them, but, "Two's company, three's a crowd", and I didn't realize how much I hated that feeling.

A couple of years later, eventhough my memory is fuzzy on this, but a portion of the memory was a conflict around the breakfast table where I was in a tug-o-war with my younger brother, and I yelled out, "He's my brother too!", or, "I was here first!" I was really upset, and nothing was done about it.

I've always felt left out of groups. I never did well when it came to more than 2 people. Whenever I had two friends that I hung out with, they'd hook up and I'd be left out, cast aside feel worthless. I can't get over that feeling (so therefore, no threesomes for me).

The last time I hung out with both of my brothers was August 2000, and they came to visit me in Vancouver, seeing my crappy tiny apartment. There were times when they'd talk about cars, or other subjects that I had no interest in, and I'd start to feel a little anxious, sitting on it instead. The only enlightening thing was once when I was on the phone, long distance with my older brother, I asked if he'd talked to him in awhile, and he grumbled, "All he wants to talk about is cars and wrestling". I felt relieved.