Shadows of favoritism

By: Mark Bryan Lopez

Growing up in our small town, my brother Jake and I had a complicated relationship with our parents. As
the older sibling, I often felt overlooked due to favoritism, like an invisible thread weaving through our
family life.

From our earliest memories, it was evident that Jake held a special place in our mother's heart. His
infectious laughter and mischievous charm effortlessly won her affection, creating a sharp contrast to my
experiences. Seeking approval felt like navigating a labyrinth with no clear path, a journey fraught with
uncertainty.

During our childhood arguments, blame always pointed at me, making me seem like the one starting
trouble. Feeling unfairly treated became a constant feeling, creating a growing gap with each
disagreement. It wasn't just about occasional favoritism; it was the persistent belief that, somehow, I was
the source of trouble.

Even fulfilling desires carried a disparate weight. Jake held the golden ticket – his whims met with swift
responses, while my requests lingered in the background, overshadowed by the immediacy given to his
wants. It seemed as if the universe conspired to make my struggles invisible, reinforcing the sentiment
that my aspirations were of lesser significance.

As adolescence unfolded, the invisible wall between me and our parents solidified. While I pursued
interests and achievements, the spotlight continued to favor Jake, casting a shadow over my endeavors. It
became a lonely journey, where my accomplishments were muffled by the applause directed at him.

Observing Jake's evolution into a more challenging version of himself heightened the emotional barrier
that had quietly grown over time. Despite his mischievous nature, my parents turned a blind eye to his
flaws, choosing to focus only on the positive aspects.

Now, in college, unexpectedly becoming a dean's lister became a triumph I eagerly shared with my
mother. However, her response was a stark disappointment – a mere "do better next semester." The
absence of a congratulatory acknowledgment left me yearning for affirmation. It hurt, especially when
thinking about my brother's laid-back attitude toward school, always focused on games and consistently
getting low grades. Even with his academic struggles, my mother's unwavering support for him persisted,
leaving me tired of the relentless pursuit of her approval.

Yet, despite the exhaustion, I resolve to persist. I continue to give my best in the hope that, in the future,
she will see my efforts and accomplishments, acknowledging them with the pride and recognition they
deserve.