I honestly don't even know why I'm writing this. Maybe because I've kept it inside for so many years and I just need to let it out somewhere. I'm a mother of four kids. My oldest son is 20, my second son is 19, my daughter is 17 and my youngest son is 15. I love all four of them equally. There has never been a favorite. They all grew up in the same home with the same parents. My husband and I have always tried to give them love, support and everything we could. We weren't perfect parents but we genuinely tried our best. That's why this hurts so much because no matter what we've done over the years, nothing has changed.
My second son has had some health problems since he was little. He has never been seriously disabled or anything like that. He can take care of himself, he goes out on his own, he has hobbies, he has friends and he doesn't need someone looking after him all the time. He's just different from the other three. He's not as sharp, fast or energetic as they are and he has always had a weaker immune system. He would get sick more often and sometimes he needed more attention from us than the others did. As parents we couldn't just ignore that. If one of your children needs you more at certain times you naturally give them that extra care. We never loved him more than the others. We simply responded to what each child needed.
Because of his health there were times we had to cancel family vacations or trips at the last minute. We never felt right leaving one child behind while taking the other three. Looking back now I know those moments affected the others more than we realized. They missed out on some things because of it. But it wasn't like their childhood was full of disappointment. They still had birthday parties, holidays, sleepovers, school trips, sports, time with friends and special moments with us. We always tried to make sure every child had attention and opportunities. It just wasn't always possible to make everything perfect.
As they got older though, especially around sixteen or seventeen, something changed. The frustration they had toward us slowly became resentment toward their brother. Instead of blaming the situation they started blaming him. It was like in their minds he became the reason they had missed out on certain memories as kids. From that point things just kept getting worse. They stopped inviting him to things. If they planned to go somewhere together they left him out. If they were hanging out at home they acted like he wasn't there. They have a lot of the same friends because they're close in age but they rarely include him. Even their friends have started treating him like he's invisible because they follow the example my other kids set.
The hardest part for me isn't even the exclusion. It's hearing the words they say to him. More than once I've overheard them telling him they wish he had never been part of the family or that they don't want him around. Every time I hear something like that it feels like someone is ripping my heart apart. I look at my son and he never screams back or starts a fight. He just goes quiet. He smiles less than he used to. Sometimes he'll simply walk back to his room like he's already expecting it. Watching your own child slowly believe he doesn't belong in his own family is something I wouldn't wish on anyone.
Last week was another example that completely broke me. The other three bought tickets to a music concert together. My second son was excited because he likes the artist too. He asked if he could come with them. They had already bought tickets for themselves and never even considered buying one for him. They told him no and left without him. He didn't throw a tantrum or beg. He just said okay and went back to his room. I don't even think he expects to be included anymore. That acceptance hurts more than if he had cried.
The thing that makes this even harder is that he's genuinely such a sweet kid. He's gentle, kind and thoughtful. He has never been the child causing problems or getting into trouble. He's incredibly talented in his own way. He paints beautifully. Honestly some of his artwork amazes me. He has found a small group of friends through art classes and local galleries. He goes to exhibitions, talks to other artists and that's where I actually see him smile. Those people appreciate him for who he is. Sometimes I wonder if complete strangers understand my son better than his own siblings do.
My husband and I have spent years trying to fix this. We've had countless conversations with all of them. We've explained how hurtful their behavior is. We've asked them to imagine how they would feel if the roles were reversed. We've tried family time, one-on-one talks, setting rules and encouraging them to spend time together. We've cried in front of them.
I'm just so tired. I feel like I've failed all of my children somehow. I feel guilty toward my second son because he deserves siblings who love him and accept him. I also feel guilty toward my other three because maybe somewhere along the way they carried resentment that we didn't recognize soon enough. I keep replaying every parenting decision in my head wondering where we went wrong. Maybe we made mistakes. I'm sure we did. Every parent does. But I never imagined it would end with one of my children feeling like an outsider in the only family he's ever known.
I don't even know what I'm hoping to get from posting this. Maybe someone has been through something similar. Maybe someone has advice. Or maybe I just needed to tell someone because I've carried this pain for years and it feels unbearably lonely. I honestly pray no child ever has to wonder why their own brothers and sister don't want them around and I pray no mother ever has to stand there watching it happen while feeling completely powerless to stop it.