Free shipping on all orders over $75🎄

I’m sure you’ve read the articles—or at least seen the headlines as you scroll.

Siblings share a bond for life.

Siblings are built-in best friends.

Siblings are the best gift I can give my kids.

I have a handful of kids myself and, as a mom, it’s true—I sincerely wish for my children to have a deep bond when they’re grown. I want them to be friends with mutual love, respect, and camaraderie between them.

But the truth is not all siblings grow up to be friends.

In my own 30+ years as a sibling, I’ve come to accept that it really is as simple and as complicated as that.

My siblings and I don’t call each other daily. We don’t banter back and forth on a group text. We don’t meet up on random Tuesday nights in a restaurant booth to discuss life over margaritas and queso, even though some of us live in the same town.

If I’m being honest, it hurts a little to realize I’ll likely never have that, that I’ll probably never share a close relationship with the people I grew up with. We share genes, a healthy catalog of happy childhood memories, and an upbringing that shaped each of us in various ways—but we just don’t share a close bond.

RELATED: Cherish Your Siblings if You’re Lucky Enough to Have Them

It’s not that our relationship is acrimonious or filled with any sort of hatred. We’re not going to end up on an episode of Maury or The People’s Court squabbling over an inheritance or a bitter love triangle. But it’s not the flowery stuff of mom blogs or those dreamy, muted orange Instagram stories, either.

We grew into adults who aren’t that close.

Honestly, I wonder sometimes if we’re not such an anomaly. There must be more sets of grown siblings out there like us than social media would lead you to believe. The kind who does a passable job of going through the motions but would never be in each other’s orbits if it weren’t for our common DNA.

That story doesn’t get the headlines though, because it’s not very sexy. It’s uncomfortable to see ourselves in the once-every-three-months group text messages that elicit eye rolls or annoyed sighs. Those awkward Thanksgiving dinners where extended families make small talk to fill four hours are uncomfortable enough to live, let alone relive.

Because I’ve learned that while real life may be true, it doesn’t always fit into our preferred narrative.

RELATED: Love Your Siblings and Other Advice For My Grown Children

I wish I could point to a specific incident that causes us to hold one another at arm’s length—but I can’t. We had a comfortable childhood. Our parents are objectively great and had plenty of love for us all. We had good times together and made a lot of memories.

But eventually, we grew up and we just grew apart. We got married, and not necessarily to spouses who had all that much in common with our siblings. We got busy having our own kids, pursuing our own careers, our own hopes and dreams.

Thankfully, we’ve proven we’re there for each other when push comes to shove—something I’m incredibly grateful to know deep down in my bones—but I don’t think we’ll ever really be friends.

We’re related, but that’s about it.

And I have a feeling we can’t be the only ones.

Looking for another good read? We love It’s Not Supposed to Be This Way.[/easyazon_link] Don’t have time to sit and read? You can listen here, on Audible.

Recommendations in this post contain affiliate links. Her View From Home may receive a small commission if you choose to purchase.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Her View From Home

Millions of mothers connected by love, friendship, family and faith. Join our growing community. 1,000+ writers strong. We pay too!   Find more information on how you can become a writer on Her View From Home at https://herviewfromhome.com/contact-us/write-for-her//

A Backpack and a Father’s Love

In: Grown Children, Living
Yellow backpack

My grandma’s standard answer when it came time to discuss upcoming events, holidays, or family gatherings was the following, “I’ll be there . . . if I’m still here.” “See you at Christmas, Grandma!” Or, “Can’t wait to come visit this summer.” Or, “Wow, it will be so exciting to have you at our wedding.” “I’ll be there . . . if I’m still here,” was always her response. And the thing is, for a very long time, she was. She enjoyed nearly 90 years and took in every possible moment when it came to time with family and friends....

Keep Reading

When Mama Doesn’t Love

In: Grown Children, Living, Motherhood
Little girl, black and white photo

She is nine years old, squeezed into the far corner of the bathtub, fully clothed, legs folded to her chest. She feels the slap-slap sting of the belt. She disobeyed. Her heartbeat roars in her head, and she wonders if she will die this time. Her heart aches from the words. Silent tears fall, and the words and the strap stop. She sees red welts on her arms and legs but feels only the numbness of her empty heart. She slowly rises to hide in her spot in the shed. She pulls out her diary and writes. The words her...

Keep Reading

You’re the Mother-in-Law I Dream of Being One Day

In: Grown Children, Motherhood
Grandmother holding baby with big sister looking on, color photo

To my dear mother-in-law, Thank you for showing me that good mothers-in-law really do exist. I hear so often about the stereotypical mother-in-law who ends up alienating her daughters-in-law. You are not one of those. You have totally won my heart instead. Thank you that on days when I feel my world unraveling, I can gather up my little ones, and crash down at your place where you welcome us with open arms. I did it the other day. My overstimulated brain and body needed a break, so in a sort of desperation, I got myself and the four littles...

Keep Reading

Hello From the Middle of the Middle Years

In: Grown Children, Living, Motherhood, Teen
Teen boy helping elderly man up the stairs, color photo

I am middle-aged. I honestly don’t know how or when I got here, but it’s legit. It’s not just in the number I say out loud when someone asks me how old I am. Or when I give my students my birth year and am returned with perplexed questions as they try to comprehend how I could have actually existed in the 1900s. So, that makes you like… historical? So, you were there when MLK died? So, you’re like, 82? I definitely need to talk to their math teacher. This middle-aged business pulled up for a ride out of nowhere. I feel...

Keep Reading

My Dad Remarried after My Mom Died, and as a Daughter It’s Bittersweet

In: Grief, Grown Children, Loss
Older couple walking on beach holding hands

My dad ran off with a woman from California. When you put it like that, it sounds salacious and a faux pax, but the reality is a lot less interesting. My mom died of cancer at the cusp of my adulthood, leaving me and a gaggle of siblings behind. Six months later, my dad met a widow in California, connected with her, fell in love, and decided to move our family to California to be with her. Two years almost to the day after my mother died, my father married my stepmother. (I have photographic evidence of the event, I...

Keep Reading

Sharing a Birthday with My Dad Is the Best Gift of All

In: Grown Children
Old, color photo of father and tween daughter blowing out candles

I have the best dad. I know many people say that about their dad, but I really do. He is the kind of person who lights up a room with his smile or his hearty laugh—the kind that makes you start cracking up just by hearing it. His heart is made of solid gold, and he makes everyone feel like the most important person in the room. He exudes the kind of joy that radiates like sunshine beaming through the darkest storm. He loves everyone and everything. Especially his birthday. And not just for the ordinary reasons people love their birthday—the...

Keep Reading

Seeing My Dad’s Illness through My Child’s Eyes Hurts More

In: Grown Children, Living, Motherhood
Little girl and grandpa walking down sidewalk, color photo

It’s extremely hard to see your parent sick. It’s a million times harder to see your child’s grandparent sick. It may not make sense, but if you’ve been there, it probably hits close to home. The fact is there is a very real, very significant difference between the two. While both are challenging and heartbreaking in their own ways, the latter is a whole other form of hurt. One you can’t fully prepare for. When my dad recently started undergoing significant health issues, we all reacted in different ways. As adult children, we knew this would always be a possibility....

Keep Reading

A Grandma’s Love Is Stronger Than DNA

In: Grown Children, Motherhood
Woman with toddler granddaughter, black-and-white photo

This baby girl. I shouldn’t love her like I do. But, I do. She’s not mine. Yet, I feel like she is. Or, maybe I feel like I am hers.  Three years ago I got remarried to a man with a young adult daughter. I immediately felt adoration for this daughter who wasn’t mine. But coming along later in her life, I knew my expectations must be kept safely in check. She already had a mother. She even had a stepmother before me. Her heart must have been familiar with breaks I had yet to know at her tender age. ...

Keep Reading

I Am a Mother Evolving

In: Grown Children, Kids, Motherhood, Teen
Mother and child walking by water in black and white photo

Those who mean well squawk the refrain— “The days are long, but the years are short.” They said I would miss it— little feet and newborn baby smell nursing in the wee hours with a tiny hand clutching mine. Tying shoes,  playing tooth fairy,  soothing scary dreams. They were fine times, but I do not wish them back. RELATED: Mamas, Please Quit Mourning Your Children Growing Up I rather enjoy these days of my baby boy suddenly looking like a young man in a baseball uniform  on a chilly Wednesday in April. And my Amazonian teenage girl  with size 11...

Keep Reading

Watching My Mom Lose Her Best Friend Is Hard

In: Grief, Grown Children, Loss
Two women walking, color photo

Today, my mom lost one of her best friends. Today the news came. Suddenly. Unexpectedly. Traumatically. Ripping a hole in the heart of her world and the world of all who knew and loved her. Today I realized so many things. Things I already know but always lose sight of. Things like, nothing is ever guaranteed. Things like, you never know when it will be your last text . . . your last hug . . . your last power walk . . . your last everything with a person who is so deeply connected to your heart and soul...

Keep Reading