Being Mean

Being mean. This is the phrase people use to describe emotional abuse. What does "being mean" mean? In general, it means that one sibling is trying to tear another down, and dominate them in some way. How, exactly does "being mean" look? There are zillions of ways one sibling can be mean to another. Here are some of the most common ones.

Conning: This means tricking a sibling out of something. A sibling can manipulate another sibling into doing something. 

Provoking: When a sibling provokes another, that sibling is intentionally trying to get a reaction out of the other one. They may be doing so to get the other in trouble, or solely for entertainment purposes.

Intimidating: In the book Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, the author describes one story where she would play cards with her sister and would cheat to lose so her sister wouldn't get mad at her. Intimidation can be a sibling's anger or threats. It is intentionally scaring a sibling.

Name-calling: One of the most blatant forms of sibling abuse, name-calling means labeling a victim. "Loser" is a popular one.

Belittling: This is when one sibling claims that the other is somehow less impressive or important than they otherwise indicate.

Teasing: An indirect approach, teasing means calling attention to what the victim is saying, doing, or wearing. A sibling who teases will make fun of a sibling's choice of clothing, or how the victim acts, how the victim speaks, or the body type of the victim.

Insulting: A more direct approach than teasing, insulting means calling direct attention to a victim's behavior. This might mean saying directly "you're stupid," or "you're fat," or "you're ugly," or something like that.

Embarrassing: Another popular tactic, an abusive sibling will often try to embarrass another by sharing an embarrassing story about them. This is not done in an endearing way, but as a means to make the other feel worthless.

Dehumanizing: "Dehumanizing" means taking away a person's human attributes in order to make them less human. With brothers, this can often take the form of emasculation. One victim of emotional sibling abuse told me one story about how his brother once made fun of him for buying a "girl's toy."

Wounded but Wiser

As an American, I grew up learning that the United States is "the best country in the world," and people around the globe envy us and dream of one day coming to the Land of Opportunity. Growing older and more skeptical, I'm not sure if the U.S. is "the best," but as I get older I also realize just how much influence the United States has on other countries. However you feel about America, there is no denying that the U.S. wields an enormous amount of power. I have a question for you: Do you know how the United States became so powerful? Did they have to fight for it? Did The Land of the Free become strong from struggling against its enemies? Hardly. Actually, until 9/11, America never really had enemies. 

This, many scholars believe, is precisely why America became so powerful. It got lucky. A quote largely attributed to Otto von Bismarck nicely summarizes this theory: "The Americans are truly a lucky people. They are bordered to the north and south by weak neighbors and to the east and west by fish." America became strong precisely because it was never threatened. Free of enemies, the U.S.  was able to develop its resources without interference. Power wasn't earned--it was handed over on a silver platter.

Which is why the "suffering makes you stronger" belief really bothers me. I 100% disagree with that claim. From what I've seen and experienced, the exact opposite is true. America isn't the only example of how the good life benefits those lucky enough to live it. I shouldn't have to give you a history lesson to teach you that. It should be common sense. How on earth can one be built up while an outside force is tearing them down? A nurturing environment is crucial to the proper development of a person. Suffering cannot possibly make one stronger, especially during one's formative years. Pretending otherwise is simply delusional.

People choose to believe suffering will make them stronger so they can feel better. It's why people choose to believe in a heaven, or a god, or that they won't lose their 401(k) in another stock market upset. The truth is simply too painful, so they hide from it.

If suffering was supposed to make me stronger, how come I'm so weak? I look around me, and I see that most of my peers are better-adjusted, more confident, mentally healthier, and more successful at accomplishing their goals than I am. If the abuse I experienced at the hands of my siblings was supposed to make me a better person, then why did I think I was public property for most of my life? Why did I fail at creating healthy relationships? Why is it still so hard for me to express my opinions and feelings? How come I'm still reeling from the rage that resulted from all the injustice and mistreatment? Why did I develop a learned helplessness that is taking me years to recover from? Why did I become so scared of life? How come, when the abuse finally stopped, the person remaining was a shell of the person who existed before it started?

There is no doubt that a lot of bad came from my experience. I was recently reflecting on my life, however, and started wondering about something else. Being abused certainly didn't make me stronger, but was there  any good that came from it?

The answer to that question is yes.

My suffering didn't make me stronger, but it certainly made me more aware. I learned that one's environment means everything, that hardship is often not your fault, and exactly how despair, rage and depression feel, and how they can affect your life.

The most important lesson I learned is that life is not a meritocracy. Growing up in a bad environment, with little support from my family, I performed poorly in nearly all aspects of my life. I attributed my failure to incompetence, and thought that I didn't do as well in life as others did because they were better than me. After I left home and found a supportive environment, I began to see big changes in how I thrived. All of a sudden, I started doing better in school, finding nicer friends, accomplishing more goals, and bouncing back from setbacks. There's a mentality out there that if you fail in life, it's your fault. I learned this is not at all the case. Willpower makes up just half the recipe for success. The other part is made up of things over which you have no control, like your resources, advantages and opportunities.  

I also learned that hardship is not your fault. Victim blaming is rampant in our culture, and victims of sibling abuse are no exception. I heard a lot growing up that if I was being picked on, it was my fault, and I just needed to stand up for myself. I believed this message, and often felt that I was to blame for the mistreatment I faced. One night, my family went to a theater production at the local high school. On stage, a confident girl who I knew was performing and I thought she danced brilliantly. After the show was over, one of my siblings whispered a snarky comment about her to me (something about what she was wearing or how she was dancing, I don't remember). It was then that it hit me--she could have been in my shoes. Had my older sibling been her older sibling, this confident, spirited person would have fallen victim to the same treatment I was facing. And then I made the wider connection that anybody could have been in my shoes, that anybody could have been unlucky enough to have the siblings I did. 

I also learned what it's like to be depressed, helpless, bitter and alone. I learned what it's really like to go for days, months, years of constant crying. I learned what helplessness really feels like, and how impossible it can make life.  I learned how resentment can burn for years, and take hostage of all your pleasant emotions. I learned how easy it is for people to never know anything's wrong. 

I am naturally a smart, empathetic person. Is it possible that I would have been aware of these things had I not gone through this? Could I have suffered in vain? I think the answer is no. Understanding takes on a whole new meaning when it is done through first-hand experience. Had somebody told me that willpower isn't everything, that hardship isn't your fault, and that depression feels really miserable, I might have understood--on an intellectual level. Now I really understand, and I'm glad I do.  

Going through this has helped me understand broader injustices. It has also given me a great deal more enlightenment than those who had it ten times better than I did. I don't think of myself as lesser than those who weren't torn down by hardship. I think I was a little unluckier. The good news is that with the right environment and a little bit of work, I'll catch up to them soon. If someone gave me the chance to undo my past, I don't think I would. If I could pick between being strong and naïve or wounded but wise, I'd rather be wise.     

What about you? Do you think any of your hardships made you wiser? Do you think any good came out of your suffering?