I can’t recall what motivated me to dig through a box of old mementos and photos in my parents’ closet, but I suspect it was heavily motivated by a desire to discover where my mother had hidden my MicroMachines after I left them out for the 33rd consecutive day. In any case, my 7-year-old eyes were easily distracted by the pictures of places I’d never been and young people that looked remarkably like my parents.

I was putting away one batch of pictures and looking for more when a frayed piece of paper caught my eye. Generally I was not interested in the least with papers, but this one I recognized. It was an elementary-ruled piece with inch tall blue letter guidelines and an ugly chef’s surprise/battleship gray color. I carefully slid it out; not wanting to damage it. When I looked at it I realized that it was not mine. Consternation seized me; I flipped the paper over and saw my older brother’s name. It was an old paper; he had written it when he was in second grade. The title was “My Family.” Hopefully he would complain about me and I could turn him in to Mom and Dad; that would be fun! I quickly read over his description of our mother and father, and found where he mentioned me. It said, “My little brother Brandon is 4. I’m proud of him, he can catch a baseball five times in a row!” And that was it. My world was thrown into turmoil. Continents moved, mimes spoke, and Tonka no longer made big yellow trucks. Those few words changed my life.

Mind you, we never threw punches, but our relationship was pretty tenuous. I was in a stage where being a tattletale was the newest vogue. I would go in his room and touch (aka destroy by smashing) all the cool toys he had. I wandered into his room any time I felt like it, just to annoy him and look over his shoulder. In sports, I complained about how he threw too hard, ran too fast, and hit too many of his shots. As payback, when he wanted to play some sport I would always refuse; and when I asked, he wouldn’t play with me because I would fuss about it and get him into trouble. This generally ended up with both of us getting in trouble.

To be honest, it couldn’t have been all my fault. He did enjoy shutting me out of his room. It probably wasn’t easy to make the adjustment from being the only child to having people fawn over a cute little guy like me. He was older, mature; he didn’t have time for all the babyish things I wanted him to do with me. It’s pretty common between siblings, and we weren’t an exception.

Does any of this sound familiar? I think anybody with siblings can relate. I always wanted to go everywhere he and his friends went, and he never wanted me to. Why do siblings rarely get along? In most cases, it is the same as with mine. We didn’t hate each other, but we certainly weren’t friends. Of course, it’s not right to fight and have contention in the family, but if you get by with simply not fighting you’re missing one of the greatest opportunities of your life!

Think on this for a second. Is there anyone else on planet Earth who knows you better? Someone who knows what you like and dislike? Is there someone besides your brother or sister who is in the know about all the internal workings of your family and can share in both the worries and inside jokes? Is there someone else you will see for the rest of your life; who will be at your wedding; who will have you over for Thanksgivings and watch your kids for you? Could anyone else in your life have seen your good side and probably even more of your bad side like your siblings? Age difference doesn’t matter. Your siblings are best suited to relate to you. They share a home and a ton of experiences. Your friendship is practically built in!

Then, of course, there are the excuses. You don’t get along because you know more of their annoying habits than anyone. They know how to push your buttons and consequently work you over like a tv remote. Of course, you do the same in return. You see all the things they get that you want. You see all the things they get that you never got. You know all the things they like that you don’t and you deem them fit for ridicule because of it. What’s the deal? Unfortunately, it’s easier to list the negatives about your brothers or sisters than the positives. This negative attitude is the real reason why you don’t get along.

Having a negative attitude is, to put it bluntly, selfishness. It makes you think inward and focus on what others do to offend you. It closes you off from others. You get upset with them because they aren’t making you happy. You aren’t concerned about them, you’re concerned about how you feel.

But there is a solution, and it is equally as simple. Be positive. Change your perspective from all they do wrong to all they do right. Reach out to them and tell them what you think they are good at. That is what my brother did in his second-grade handwriting. He said he actually liked me. He thought I was good at something. You know what this made me do? It made me positive toward him. I saw he was good at things, and I didn’t have to be jealous. I didn’t have to bother him at all times just for attention; I didn’t have to be around him at all times. Why? He thought I was good at something; he thought I was cool.

It’s that easy. Just be sincere. Tell one of your siblings sometime that you think one of their hobbies is interesting. Ask them to tell you what they think about something just because you want their opinion. And don’t give up. The more positively you think about your siblings, the more they will think positively about you. It’s a law. Take the time to talk about things. Don’t act like you’re too busy for your own family. If you take the time and put in the effort to look for the good in those who are literally closest to you, both you and your siblings will become happier.

Today, my brother and I hang out at ball games; we reminisce over the time he put toothpaste in my hair; we talk about everything; we have the world’s largest repertoire of inside jokes, and we have fun. I have that relationship with my younger brother as well. So can you. If you examine your siblings for what they do well, for all that is positive in them, you can develop a close tie that will last as long as you live. When the day goes roughly, you can always come home to your brother, your sister … your friend.