Once upon a time, when I was little, and my brother even less, it seemed to me that my parents did not like me, that they loved my younger brother. It probably seems to almost everyone. I think my brother once thought that he was loved less than I was. In fact, now I understand that parental love, we always got equal. So with most. However, not all.
I will tell the story that I witnessed. About 8 years ago I had a boyfriend. Let’s call it conditionally Vanya. He was in the middle family, the elder brother (let it be Kostya) was already divorced and had a small daughter. Junior (say, Igor) finished school.
It would seem that three people who for parents should be equally expensive. But no! The eldest, Kostya, in the family, all stubbornly considered the slobber and an unserious man, perhaps because of a divorce from his wife, perhaps because of the rampant life to which he was used.
The younger one, Igor, was christened dubious, although, as his later life showed, he entered the university the first time, unlike his brothers, and in his life everything was much easier. He was just hidden and silent.
But both parents were crazy about Vanya! Vanya we have such a good fellow! You will not be lost with him! – they told me. And constantly painted his exploits, comparing with the unlucky brothers.
If Vanya stayed with me, my parents started calling me at home (cellular ones were not very common then). For comparison, they did not search for Kostya like this, neither did Igor. But for Vanya was shaking. It must be said that Vanya, to some extent, reciprocated them – until the age of 23 he could not get out from under her mother’s skirt.
Once I tried to unearth this interesting situation. It turned out that this has been the case since the boys were still very small. Anyway, only Vanya was welcome in the family, the rest were random. That is why everything happened approximately according to this scenario: if something did not work out for Vanya, then he was told No harm, let us help you, next time you will definitely succeed !; and if something did not come out from one of his brothers, it is because the hands do not grow from that place. And here is Vanya.
Now, many years after those events, I learned that the elder and younger brothers were leaving in different directions and almost did not visit their parents. They do not consult with them, relying only on themselves. And they are still considered unprofitable. And Vanya, as before, is a frequent and welcome guest in the father’s house.
It seems to me that such a situation has developed in the family for a reason: parents in every way, from early childhood, showed love for one son, neglecting the feelings of other children. Therefore, they got rebels, despicable ones, who are probably only for their parents. And in their own, newly created family, they are beautiful and loving fathers and husbands.
To be honest, I can hardly imagine how you can love one child and not love the rest. When I was pregnant, I was very afraid that I could not love the baby as it deserves, although I really wanted a child. But when I first saw my daughter, then all my doubts were scattered. And now I know for sure that in the same way they will be scattered both at the second and at the third child – at any, no matter how many.