Being an only child

It occurred to me this morning that, had I had a brother, I might be a very different person.  I had a lot of male friends growing up (all my mother’s friends with kids my age had boys), so I’ve always been a bit boyish in my interests–I mean, what else is going to happen when your best friends are all playing with BB guns and four-wheelers?  I have a few interests that I didn’t realize were ‘male’ until much later in life–video-games is a big one (though I can also blame my cousin Blair for that).

But I’m also a bit of a daddy’s girl, and I got to wondering–if I had had a brother, would I still have been?  While I was learning arts and crafts from my mother, would he be teaching woodworking to my brother instead of me?  What about hunting and fishing and sports…well, alright, maybe I could do without the sports, as I have more bad memories than good ones there, but you get my point.

I’ve never felt limited by my gender.  I’m as good with a hammer and nails as I am with a needle and thread.  I’m as comfortable with a power drill as with a blender.  And while I’m not good at sports, I don’t throw like a girl.  My parents never limited me, and I learned a lot from both of them.  If I tend towards more stereotypical female activities now, it’s because that’s what I honestly prefer.

Still, there’s this niggling little thought…what if I’d had a brother?