Coming from a family of three children, a tactic often used to make decisions was ‘majority rules.’ Unfortunately, this often left to me getting quickly outnumbered–I am the only girl surrounded by two brothers. I grew up with a love of princesses and all things pink; this love was inevitably clouded by the toy cars, and dirt that boys enjoy so much. I never really got a voice in decision on movies to watch, or games to play–so I had to learn to adapt.

        Playing house would turn into wrestling, and playing with Barbies
turned into a game of monkey in the middle. And, of course, if I ever tried to
alter their games, they would have the numbers to keep playing accordingly. (My
favorite was when my game of ‘cooking’ on our playground was rendered into a
worm pie factory. EW!)

        Up until recently, I had always dreamed of trading one of my
brothers for a sister. Childhood would have been so much simpler had I been on
the ‘majority side.’

        Although at the time I would often feel not included, or
discouraged, the ‘masculine’ activities balanced out my ‘girly-girl’
tendencies. For me, it was either play dress up by myself, or play ‘explorer’s
expedition’ in the woods. Having the influence of my brothers has stayed with
me, and how I relate to people today. If I did not give in to them, I would
have spent my time by myself playing with the imaginary sisters I thought I had
wanted. Indirectly, I feel as though my brothers are responsible for my
risk-taking nature.

        A bookend by definition holds a book in place so it does not fall.
My two brothers with their rambunctious nature held me together and kept me
grounded. A good story has adventure and uncertainty. The ‘girly’ barriers I
had, would not of been broken without the help of my brothers. They help tell
my story and I wouldn’t change that for the world. Everyone has a unique story,
and being the only girl in my family makes my story unique. Bookends are made
to match, yet the stories they hold together are vastly different. If I was
accompanied by another sister, my story would lose some individuality. For
there will always be more than one Valentino boy, yet there is only one of me. Maybe being in the middle is not such a bad thing.