When I tell people I have three brothers, they tend to be surprised. When I clarify that I have three older brothers, most people tend to have the same reaction. I call it "the yikes." It consists of raised eyebrows, a sympathetic frown and a big exhalation of breath.
Usually people say something like, "Wow, that must have been rough" or "I bet they were super protective of you."
Trust me folks, you have no idea.
As I grew up, my father continuously engrained one rule in my brothers' skulls: protect your sister, always. Apparently, in their minds, this translated into no boys allowed. Ever.
Basically, I've had live-in c*ck blockers since I was in diapers.
My dad especially liked to remind my brothers of this in front of whatever sports team he was coaching - whether it was little league or youth football. That way, all boys in my immediate vicinity were aware that my company always included three bodyguards.
It helped that my dad was well known within the recreational sport circuit of my town, so word traveled quickly. Before I turned 6 years old, it was basic knowledge that if you wanted to talk to me, you would have to deal with my brothers first.
Most of the time, boys decided it would be easier to just not talk to me.
The first time I can remember one of my brothers ruining my "love life" was in first grade. I developed my second big crush on a boy. His name was Johnny and he was in my class. We sat next to each other during story time. I'm not sure if I told my brother Matt about my feelings or the jerk read about it in my diary. Either way, the results were tragic.
My brother, a third grader at the time, and I would go to the school cafeteria early and eat breakfast before class started. So did Johnny.
As fate would have it, Matt and Johnny sat together one morning and started chitchatting. I wasn't there, but this is how I assume the conversation went:
"Oh, you're in Ms. Tamburri's class?" Matt asked.
"Yup," Johnny responded.
"My sister, Lyzi White, is in that class. Do you know a boy named Johnny? Lyzi's totally in love with him!"
My brother ran over to me and I sat in horror as he told me the story.
Turned out, Johnny thought all girls had cooties. When he found out I loved him, he believed there was a risk of contracting them. The love of my life made it a point to avoid me while picking seats during story time for the rest of the year.
C*ck block accomplished.
As I grew up, my brothers taught me valuable life lessons: how to throw a punch, how to play video games and how to play football. While I appreciate these things now, there was a point during puberty when, as a girl, I was not supposed to be doing these things.
More importantly, I was not supposed to be better at these things than my male classmates.
My brothers were part of a wrestling club. Logically, my dad enrolled me in class, too. Unfortunately for me, I was pretty damn good. When a boy would try to lift my leg and throw me to the ground, I would just hop around with my leg in the air and watch the confusion on the boy's face. Then pin him to the ground.
Boys did not like that.
C*ck block accomplished.
My love for video games also became a problem. Now, it's common knowledge I played an enormous amount of video games as a kid. But as a 13-year-old girl just growing breasts and hoping to get noticed by a certain boy in her class, it was something I tried to keep secret. It didn't work out.
My brother Billy worked at a computer LAN-ing center - basically a place where people all sit in one room and play the same video game together. I was a decent Counter Strike player at this point, so Billy introduced me to some other girls who played and we formed a team.
The first competition we played in, I competed against the boy I had a crush on. I still hadn't learned to keep my mouth shut about boys I liked at this point, so my three brothers (who had a team themselves) knew exactly which boy it was.
My brother Chris went up to the kid, kissed him on both cheeks and just walked away. No words spoken, no explanation given.
Too bad everyone knew he was my brother. Too bad my crush started giving me weird looks like it was my fault. Too bad I ended up beating my crush in that competition.
If the boy had any semblance of a crush on me, he sure as hell didn't anymore.
C*ck block accomplished.
That same year was when I realized I would never have a chance at a real teenage "love life."
My brothers, some of their friends and I played EverQuest, a massively multiplayer online role-playing game, on a regular basis. One of these friends, Mike, apparently liked me and another friend knew this. So via private message, this friend told me I should give Mike a chance.
I would have loved to. He was cute, he was nice and he obviously didn't care that I was a nerd.
Unfortunately, my brother Chris was watching me play and read the message the same time I did.
He promptly logged on and told Mike something like, "I won't tell Billy or Matt, but if you go near my sister, we'll hide your body in the woods where no one will find it."
C*ck block accomplished.
I'm sure my parents were grateful for the amount of energy my brothers put into making sure no boy ever wanted to come near me. Once they found their own girlfriends, their effort was displaced. Unfortunately for me, the damage was already done; everyone knew my brothers were crazy and my love life stayed stagnant for a very long time.
So you should thank your sons, Mom and Dad. Those three buffoons protected my hymen - one embarrassing moment at a time.
Email: lyzi.white@ubspectrum.com
