My brother and sister were much older. They were planned. I was not planned for. I was called the mistake, amongst other things.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
My brother and I were separated when I was a child; we went with different parents.
I was the youngest and only girl in a family of two older brothers.
My sister and my brother, of whom I have not spoken before, were considerably older than I; it seemed almost as if we belonged to different generations.
My brother arrived some months after my father left. Um, and he ah, was thus eight years younger than me and it was um, you know, it was such a time that my mother probably had people wondering was it his.
I was at the tail end of the family. The next brother along was already seven years older than me. I remember growing up by myself, playing games by myself.
I had older brothers, and I don't think there's anything worse than an older brother. They pretty much told me the end of everything they got to see before I did.
I didn't tell anybody about my plan because I was convinced my family or friends would stop me. I didn't think much about what would happen afterwards.
I was picked on because I was timid. I had younger sisters; I couldn't turn to them for help. I didn't have an older brother.
There was a 10- and 8-year difference between us, so my brothers were into tormenting me and I was into getting away from them.
I had an older brother who passed away recently, an older sister and a younger brother.
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