Latest news with #siblings
CNN
8 hours ago
- General
- CNN
75 years after he was kidnapped to North Korea, these sisters still hope to see their brother
Min Young-jae has not seen or heard anything about her eldest brother for 75 years. He was 19 and she was only 2 when, during the early days of the Korean War, he was kidnapped to the North. 'We were known in the neighborhood as a happy family,' the now 77-year-old told CNN, as her older sister Min Jeong-ja nodded in agreement. Their peaceful days were shattered on June 25, 1950, when North Korea invaded the South. The three-year war would kill more than 847,000 troops and about 522,000 civilians from both sides, and tear apart more than 100,000 families, including Min's. After the war, the family kept the rusting doors of their tile-roofed house open, in hopes that their eldest would one day return. But over time, barbed wire has been installed between the two Koreas, and a modern apartment complex has replaced the house. Though 75 years have passed without a single word about or from the brother, Min and her siblings remain hopeful that they will hear about him some day. Or, if not him, then his children or grandchildren. The family lived in Dangnim village, nestled between green mountains on the western side of Chuncheon city, nearly 100 kilometers northeast of Seoul. It was a village of chirping birds, streaming water and chugging tractors. It was also dangerously close to the 38th parallel, which divided the peninsula after World War II. Min Young-jae, the youngest of seven, does not remember fighting with any of her siblings growing up; only sharing tofu that her parents made, splashing in the stream and being carried around on her eldest brother's shoulders. Handsome, kind and smart, Min Young-sun was studying at the Chuncheon National University of Education, following in the footsteps of his father, the principal of Dangnim Elementary School. 'His nickname was 'Math Whiz.' He excelled in math, even his classmates called him Math Whiz,' Min Jeong-ja, the fifth child of the family, said. Some days, students followed him all the way home, as he commuted via train and boat, asking him to teach math, the sisters recalled. The sisters remember Min Young-sun as a caring brother. They caught fish and splashed in the nearby stream, now widely covered with reeds and weeds and almost out of water. 'We grew up in real happiness,' Min Jeong-ja said. Living near the frontier between the newly separated Koreas – backed by the rival ideological forces of communism or capitalism – Min's family was among the first to experience the horrors of the Korean War. When Kim Il Sung's North Korean troops invaded, Min Jeong-ja remembers seeing her grandmother running in tears, with a cow in tow, screaming: 'We're in a war!' 'We all spread out and hid in the mountains, because we were scared. One day, we hid the 4-year-old, Young-jae, in the bushes and forgot to bring her back because we had so many siblings. When we returned that night, she was still there, not even crying,' Min Jeong-ja said. While the family was running in and out of the mountains, taking shelter from the troops coming from the North, Min Young-sun was kidnapped, taken to the North by his teacher. 'The teacher gathered smart students and hauled them (away). He took several students, tens of them. Took them to the North,' Min Jeong-ja said. It is unknown why the teacher would have kidnapped the students to North Korea, but the South Korean government assumes that Pyongyang had abducted South Koreans to supplement its military. 'People called the teacher a commie,' Min Jeong-ja said. That heartache was soon followed by another: the death of the second-eldest brother. He died of shock and pain, in deep sorrow from the kidnap of his brother, according to the sisters. 'The grief was huge. Our parents lost two sons… imagine how heartbreaking that would be,' Min Jeong-ja said. For their father, the pain of losing two sons was overwhelming. He developed a panic disorder, she said, and would struggle to work for the rest of his life. 'He couldn't go outside; he stayed home all the time. And because he was hugely shocked, he struggled going through day-to-day life. So, our mom went out (to work) and suffered a lot,' Min Young-jae said. The mother jumped into earning a living for the remaining five children and her husband. Still, every morning she prayed for Min Young-sun, filling a bowl with pure water as part of a Korean folk ritual and leaving the first scoop of the family's rice serving that day in a bowl for a son whom she believed would return one day. 'She couldn't move house; in case the brother cannot find his way back home. She wouldn't let us change anything of the house, not even the doors. That's how she waited for him… We waited for so long, and time just passed,' Min Jeong-ja said. Min Jeong-ja was 8 years old when the war started, but witnessed brutality that would overwhelm many adults. 'So many kids died. When I went out to the river to wash clothes, I occasionally saw bodies of children floating,' she recalled. She remembers witnessing North Korean soldiers lining up people in a barley field, and shooting at them with submachine guns. 'Then one by one, they fell on the barley field.' 'I saw too much. At one point – I didn't even know if the soldier was a South Korean or North Korean – but I saw beheaded remains.' The Min family is one of many torn apart by the war. More than 134,000 people are still waiting to hear from their loved ones believed to be in North Korea, which is now one of the world's most reclusive states, with travel between the two countries nigh-on impossible. Years after the Korean War, the two Koreas discussed organizing reunions for the separated families that have been identified from both sides through the Red Cross and both governments. The first reunion happened in 1985, more than 30 years after the ceasefire agreement was signed, and the annual reunions kicked off in 2000, when many first-hand war victims were still alive, but occasionally halted when tensions escalated on the peninsula. Once the two governments agree on a reunion date, one of the two Koreas selects families, prioritizing the elderly and immediate relatives, then shares the list with the other, which would cross check the family on its side to confirm the list of around 100 members. The selected families would meet at an office specifically built for reunions at the Mount Kumgang resort in North Korea. The Min siblings applied to the Red Cross at least five times and listed themselves under the South Korean government as a separated family. But there was never any word on their brother's whereabouts from the other side. As 75 years passed, the siblings grew up, got married, and formed their own families – but questions about their stolen brother linger. Even worse, the annual reunions of separated families have been halted since 2018, following failed summit between US President Donald Trump and North Korea's leader Kim Jong Un in Hanoi, while first-hand victims of the war age and pass away. The Kumgang resort was dismantled by the North in 2022, also amid strained tensions. But the siblings, following their parents' wishes, still hope to connect with Min Young-sun, who would now be 94 years old. 'My brother Young-sun, it's already been 75 years,' Min Young-jae said into a CNN camera, taking her glasses off so that he would recognize his sister's face. 'It's been a long time since we were separated, but I would be so grateful if you're alive. And if you're not, I still would love to meet your children. I want to share the love of family, remembering the happy days of the past… I love you, thank you.' She and the siblings remember the kidnapped brother by singing his favorite song, 'Thinking of My Brother,' a children's song about a brother that never returned. 'My brother, you said you would come back from Seoul with silk shoes,' Min Young-jae sang, while her sister wiped away tears.
Yahoo
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Dr. Becky Shares the #1 Mistake Parents Make When Bringing Home a New Baby
If you haven't heard, Peppa Pig has just become a big sister again. The family of four—Mommy Pig, Daddy Pig, Peppa and George—welcomed baby Evie into their Dr. Becky is here to help make the transition a little Seriously. The beloved parenting expert and clinical psychologist has partnered with Hasbro to bring us Muddy Puddle Parenting, a new Peppa Pig initiative that offers playful, practical and educational content featuring Dr. Becky. Think navigating tantrums, bedtime, big feelings, and of course, new additions. In the YouTube premiere series, Dr. Becky shares trusted guidance with Mummy and Daddy Pig on how to prepare Peppa and George for the arrival of a new baby, and how to help the whole family adjust after baby Evie's arrival, replete with tried-and-true strategies, practical tips and advice that help parents foster strong sibling bonds, build emotional resilience and encourage healthy family dynamics. With my own little IRL Peppa (4) and George (18 months)—we even took them to see the Baby Evie episode at the movie theater—it felt apropos to reach out to Dr. Becky on this Peppa-laced occasion, and ask the tough questions. Namely: What's the biggest mistake parents make when bringing home a new baby. Here's what the Good Inside author told me. Charlie Flint While Dr. Becky doesn't call it a mistake, she says that one "common trap" is overemphasizing the 'big kid' role. "We think we're helping by saying things like 'You're such a big sibling now!'—but what kids often hear is: 'You're not allowed to have little-kid feelings anymore,'" she shares. Dr. Becky continues: "The truth is, kids want to feel both big and little. They want to pour their own cereal and still curl up in your lap. When we push them too far into the 'big' identity, we can unintentionally cause more acting out or regression." Eek. Anyone else guilty of this? Here's what do try instead, guides the expert: "Instead, let your child know they don't have to give up their 'little-ness' just because a baby is here. Say things like: 'Even big siblings need extra snuggles. I've got you.' That keeps the connection strong—and helps your child feel seen exactly as they are." If you know anything about Dr. Becky, connection is everything. And if you know anything about to the muddy puddle that is parenting. Type C Moms Are Ruling TikTok—And I Think I'm One of ThemPureWow's editors and writers have spent more than a decade shopping online, digging through sales and putting our home goods, beauty finds, wellness picks and more through the wringer—all to help you determine which are actually worth your hard-earned cash. From our PureWow100 series (where we rank items on a 100-point scale) to our painstakingly curated lists of fashion, beauty, cooking, home and family picks, you can trust that our recommendations have been thoroughly vetted for function, aesthetics and innovation. Whether you're looking for travel-size hair dryers you can take on-the-go or women's walking shoes that won't hurt your feet, we've got you covered.
Yahoo
6 days ago
- Science
- Yahoo
Study Reveals Parents Do Have A Favorite Child. Here's Who It Is.
When snow began to fall the other day, my children made a beeline outside to scoop it up and stomp around. Within minutes, they were chucking snowballs at one another, most of which disintegrated mid-flight and landed in a flurry on their faces and necks. There was a lot of delighted shrieking, punctuated every few minutes by an aggrieved howl of 'No fair!' or 'He hit me!' Both of my kids wanted to throw snow at their sibling. Neither wanted snow to land on their exposed skin. I stood there uselessly saying benign things like, 'Gentle!' and 'Not the face!' Finally, my 11-year-old daughter ran up to me to deliver an accusation: 'Whenever I hit him, you say 'Stop,' but when he hits me, you say nothing!' I looked over at my 15-year-old son and raised my eyebrows to ask, 'Does this sound familiar?' 'You know what he says?' I told my daughter. 'That when he hits you, I say 'Stop,' but when you hit him, I say nothing.' 'Oh,' my daughter said, quietly assessing this predicament. Over the years, whether wielding snow or Nerf guns or water balloons, both of my children have regularly accused me of favoring their sibling over them. The problem with identifying favoritism is these shifting perspectives: the parent's and each siblings'. None of us are unbiased, and we're all predisposed to see ourselves as the aggrieved ones whenever confronted with criticism. With siblings, some degree of comparison is inevitable, and it's hard not to show your relief when one kid is behaving by piling on the praise for the sibling who is doing their homework or brushing their teeth. I don't feel like I'm showing favoritism to one kid, but that's mostly because I'm so overwhelmed by the unique ways they are both trying my patience. While every family has their own particular dynamic, researchers have discovered that, in most families, favoritism actually follows a similar pattern. Researchers from Brigham Young University and Western University pulled from 30 peer-reviewed journal articles and dissertation/theses, along with 14 databases, for their meta-analysis of 'parental differential treatment,' or the ways that parents treat siblings differently. They categorized parents' actions into categories of 'differential affection, differential conflict, differential resources — like how much time you spend with your kids or things that you give to them — as well as differential autonomy or freedom — like how much leeway you give kids,' Alex Jensen, one of the study's authors, told HuffPost. A parent might show differential treatment by spending more time with one child, or spending more money on them, for example. The researchers examined how this differential treatment varied by the children's birth order and gender, as well as their temperament and personality. While previous research has been mixed when it comes to favoritism and gender, this study found that 'daughters tend to be favored, and that was across the board,' Jensen said. Both mothers and fathers tended to show differential treatment for daughters. Not surprisingly, 'agreeable or conscientious children tend to be favored. That's also across the board,' Jensen said. When it came to birth order, it was also no surprise to see that parents tended to grant first-born children more freedom and autonomy — these children are, after all, older than their siblings by definition. But this favoritism persisted into adulthood, Jensen said, well past the point when a parent would worry about a child's ability to, say, go to the store on their own. It's possible thatsome patterns, like relying on the competence of an eldest daughter, begin in childhood and continue throughout adulthood. Jensen thinks this could be one explanation for why parents tended to favor girls, noting that they have a reputation of being easier to manage, behavior-wise, than boys. 'Maybe daughters are just a little bit easier to parent,' Jensen said, noting that if girls have fewer behavior problems than boys at school, it makes sense that a similar pattern would emerge at home. This seems more likely to him than another theoretical explanation: that parents treat daughters differently because they presume they will one day become the caregivers of their elderly parents. 'From an evolutionary kind of standpoint, I guess that's possible,' Jensen said, albeit less so than the theory that girls are simply 'easier to parent.' The big question, of course, is why favoritism matters. Of all the things parents are supposed to be tending to, what are the consequences of letting favoritism go unchecked? Does it really matter if, once in a while, I avert my gaze the moment my daughter lobs a snowball at my son's head? But like many other relationship dynamics in childhood, favoritism in a family can cast a long shadow. Children who are favored 'tend to have better mental health, do better in school, have better family relationships. They're less likely to engage in substance use than other teenagers. They get in less trouble at school and home,' Jensen said. Children who are not favored, on the other hand, are more likely to have negative outcomes. It's possible, Jensen noted, that when favoritism goes to an extreme, even the favored child will suffer because of it — but it would be tricky to determine when that line is crossed in a particular family, let alone in the general population. While a family might fall into a pattern of favoring daughters, older siblings or children who are more conscientious (who wouldn't want one of those?), there can also be a huge amount of variation over the years in the way that parents feel about their children. Dr. Blaise Aguirre, a psychiatrist who is a professor at Harvard Medical School and author of the forthcoming 'I Hate Myself: Overcome Self-Hatred And Realize Why You're Wrong About You,' told HuffPost, 'people, just generally speaking, tend to feel closer to those who are temperamentally similar to who they are.' For example, if an emotionally intense child has a parent who is less so, 'they just don't understand how a child could be so reactive, and so it can be confusing,' Aguirre said. He added that parents tend to prefer easygoing children, the kind who don't get calls home from the teacher. Aguirre also noted that a person's parenting can change significantly between a first child and subsequent children. 'These relationships are in constant states of flux,' he said. Infants, Aguirre noted, are sort of hard-wired to charm their parents in a way that protects their own survival. As children grow, however, some parent-pleasing behaviors can lead to comparisons among siblings and accusations of favoritism. In addition, 'we tend to remember rejection far more than we remember praise,' Aguirre said. 'If you're getting equal amounts of praise and rejection, if you could actually measure 50% praise, 50% rejection, when your parents criticize you for your behavior, you're going to remember that more.' Unless the praise is for a sibling. 'You'll remember your sibling's positive praise, much more than you remember their rejection,' Aguirre said. As a parent, you can't always control how your child recalls and interprets the things that you say or do. You can, however, listen with an open mind to any concerns your child has, whether they have to do with favoritism or something else. If a child says you're playing favorites, Aguirre suggested that a parent say something like, 'That's just not my experience, but clearly, it's yours. So, tell me: What is it that you see?' 'Getting them to kind of understand their own state of mind and understand the state of mind of the parent,' and having them 'name and label what their experience is,' Aguirre said, often has the effect of making a child feel less upset. Aguirre said that he would advise parents to talk with their children without delay about any feelings that arise. 'Often the perception is in the mind of the child,' he said. 'I think that the best thing to do is to sort of deal with it right away, lest it become ingrained in the child who sees themselves as less favorable, as being defective in some way.' A parent might ask a child to consider another's perspective, like I did with my daughter, or reassure their child that they love them for what makes them unique, not how their math grades or musical talent compares to a sibling's. Aguirre recalled one way that his mother cleverly eliminated the chance that any of her eight children might accuse her of favoritism. 'When my mom was dying, we were all spending time with her. She said, could she have a chat with each of us individually? And so I went in there, and she says, 'I'm just going to tell you, you're my favorite.'' Later, after all the siblings had their one-on-ones, they spoke about it and discovered that she had told each one of them exactly the same thing. There Might Actually Be Some Science Behind Eldest Daughter Syndrome It's Time We Acknowledge That Older Sisters Are The Backbone Of Society New Study Reveals A Downside To Being A Firstborn Or Only Child
Yahoo
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Too-Real Tweets About The Things Siblings Fight Over
Siblings fight about seemingly anything and everything. No one knows this better than their parents. The funny moms and dads of Twitter often share the unpredictable reasons behind their children's most heated arguments, from imaginary scenarios to personal competitions. We've rounded up 29 too-real tweets about the random things siblings fight over. 35 Funny Tweets About The Reasons For Kids' Tantrums 30 Tweets About The Hilarious Insults Kids Come Up With 30 Funny Tweets About Kids' Bedtime Excuses
Irish Times
6 days ago
- General
- Irish Times
Family fallouts: ‘I can't describe the heartache of not having a relationship with my sister'
In the grand constellation of human relationships , siblings are ever-present and strangely overlooked. We may have shared bunk beds or fought over dinner scraps, yet as adults, sibling bonds can become emotionally charged, distant, or even estranged. 'Your siblings are the people you're likely to know the longest in your life,' says Dr Geoffrey Greif, a professor at the University of Maryland School of Social Work and co-author of Adult Sibling Relationships. 'You'll likely know them longer than your parents, longer than your spouse, longer than your friends.' Greif has spent decades studying how siblings shape our lives and our identities. One of his core ideas is that 'nobody grows up in the same family'. Even children raised under the same roof can inhabit completely different emotional worlds. 'I've never had the experience of having me as a sibling,' he says. Birth order, shifting parental relationships, financial change, illness, trauma, even time itself – all of these shape how children are parented, and how they see their siblings. 'There's no one truth in any one family,' Greif says. 'Even in a loving household, you're being parented by people who are changing all the time.' READ MORE Most adult siblings, Greif says, exist somewhere between closeness and conflict. He names three defining characteristics of sibling relationships: affection, ambivalence, and ambiguity. Some siblings talk daily; others drift apart and don't talk for years. Many hover in an undefined middle ground – bound by blood but estranged by personality or pain. Research on this dynamic is surprisingly scant. Siblings are hard to study because they are hard to standardise, and every family constellation is different: being the eldest of three girls isn't comparable to being the eldest boy in a family of seven, for example, and families have different value systems and lifestyles. Much of the existing research into siblings relies on individual interviews, which often means only one side of the sibling story is being told. [ How to cope with squabbling siblings: Five expert tips on handling competitive children Opens in new window ] But the research we do have paints a striking picture. One study found that the warmth a person felt from their sibling at 23 predicted lower depression in midlife . Another, tracking participants for 30 years, found that closeness with a sibling in childhood – but not with a parent – predicted emotional wellbeing at 50. A study of more than a million Swedes found that one's risk of dying from a heart attack rose after a sibling's death, not only due to shared genetics, but also because of the emotional toll of losing such a central figure in their lives. Even distant siblings can provide what Greif calls 'instrumental support', such as help with ageing parents. When these ties rupture, the loss is both emotional and operational. Difficulties often surface during moments of family transition – especially illness or death. 'You can go off in your 20s and climb mountains and not need to interact with your siblings,' Greif says. 'But when your parents are in their 70s or 80s and they need care, suddenly you're back in a room with them, trying to figure out how to share responsibility.' These reunions often reopen old wounds. Birth order hierarchies reassert themselves. Resentments return. The golden child may still act entitled; the scapegoat still feels excluded. And when in-laws, grandchildren, and property are added to the mix, it's no longer just a sibling story. 'It becomes a whole system,' Greif says. 'And that's where things can get really hard.' Muireann* is estranged from her twin sister Saoirse*. Their parents had a tumultuous relationship and their mother was often left alone trying to care for the girls and work to keep the family afloat. Despite their mother's best efforts, the girls were often left in situations that were unsafe, which resulted in emotional difficulties for both of them. Now in their late 30s, the women no longer speak. 'Our relationship was the most vital one I had through childhood. I can't describe the heartache of not having a relationship with my sister,' she says. 'We were super close from the beginning – talking to each other across our cots. It was magic for a lot of our childhood.' In school, Saoirse was bullied, which caused a growing distance between them. 'It broke her. I felt, in hindsight, really guilty for not standing up for her.' [ 'I work for a company owned by siblings who don't talk to each other. It's ruining my life' Opens in new window ] Over time, their paths diverged – Muireann became fiercely independent, her sister grew increasingly reliant on their mother. Tensions escalated until, one Christmas, a violent altercation ended with Muireann locking her sister and mother inside the house to escape. 'I want to get back in touch with her,' Muireann says. 'I just don't think this should last forever. I spend a lot of time worrying for her. I wonder if she misses me.' In Ireland, sibling estrangement violates the sacred narrative of family unity. 'My mother would always say, 'The worst thing that could happen is you kids not staying close,'' says Sadhbh* (44), who grew up with two brothers. 'There's still this blood-is-thicker-than-water thing. The biggest sin you can commit is to air your family's dirty laundry by going no contact.' But Sadhbh's mother's worst fear has been realised. What started as childhood slagging between Sadhbh and her brothers became a dysfunctional dynamic between the adult siblings where cruelty, verbal abuse, and aggressive competitiveness was normalised as 'banter'. When Sadhbh started therapy as an adult, she realised the impact this dynamic was having on her self-esteem and anxiety. 'I never went to therapy for my childhood. I went for panic. And then the therapist was like, 'Hang on. No, there's a lot of stuff you think is normal, but it's not normal'. I've had therapists ten years apart from each other repeat the same thing to me: 'Stop talking to your family.' And I was just like, 'No, that's not an option'.' For years, Sadhbh tried address the dynamic with her brothers and invite them to have a more loving relationship, but they didn't change how they spoke to her. 'My older brother, he just wants to poke and poke and poke and have a debate and win. It's like he's still a teenager who has to have this sibling rivalry. And I don't have the energy for it. And I tried a lot with him, but it's just exhausting. It's just the same, and then there's apologies and 'Come on, you're my sister, love you, let's go for a drink – but his behaviour has not changed at all.' Sadhbh cut off contact with her younger brother first, then her older brother a few years later. 'I'm so bone sad and hurt, but that's grief at a loss I've chosen. I'd rather be lonely as f**k and be safe – like emotionally safe.' Sadhbh highlights how families often get stuck in unhealthy dynamics and prefer to let issues to fester rather than try to evolve and change. 'You get scapegoated if you are trying to question things, evolve, call the dysfunction out. And often we just choose, 'Well, I'd rather not be ostracised'. But then you're just putting up with really unhealthy family dynamics.' As a family therapist, adolescent mental health specialist and a former chair of the Family Therapy Association of Ireland, Dr Monica Whyte has worked extensively with individuals and families navigating complex relationships. She believes Irish history and culture plays a unique role in shaping how Irish families respond to conflict. 'There's what I call a silencing pressure ... pressure to keep families quiet around certain things – around addiction, abuses of power, things like that. There's a cultural pressure to be silent in order to keep up the family image. And that pressure often means people can't talk about what's really happening, even with their own siblings. 'The culture of silence in Irish families can't be separated from our institutional history. For decades, we had state and church-run systems that divided up power and communication – there was no transparency, and no sharing of stories. That structure has left a mark on how families operate. Information is compartmentalised. Pain is hidden. And a lot of families learned that secrecy was a form of protection – even when it was causing damage.' This cultural focus on the family can result in pressure on family members to tolerate mistreatment or even more serious breaches of trust and safety. 'There's often a huge loyalty to family, and it can feel like betrayal to speak up or step back,' says Whyte. 'But some of the biggest breaches in families are the result of trauma – abuse, addiction, chaos. When someone walks away from their family, often it's not because they're giving up, but because they're trying to survive. That can be very hard for Irish families to accept. There's a lot of stigma still around going no contact. And often, when someone tries to set a boundary, the family sees it as rejection, not protection.' The introduction of new people to the family can create issues. When sibling relationships become strained, in-laws are often part of the story, Greif says. 'Most often, the complaints that come up are about relationships with mom and dad,' he says, 'but right behind that is: who did my sibling marry?' Romantic partners bring their own values, dynamics, and loyalties into the mix and these can shift the sibling dynamic. In these moments, the sibling at the centre of the in-laws often feels torn. 'You can't be neutral,' Greif says. 'You're the bridge between two people who would never have to interact if it weren't for you. And that means you have to step up. You have to actively help navigate that relationship.' Increasingly, one of the most volatile forces in sibling estrangement is political polarisation. 'Let's say I voted for Kamala Harris and my sister-in-law voted for Trump, and let's say I have a trans child. I can't stand the idea that someone in my family would support someone who doesn't support my child's rights.' He pauses. 'There are lines that people just can't cross.' For some people, breaking off contact with a family member is a necessary act of self-preservation. But Greif worries about the long-term emotional costs – especially when those decisions are handed down to future generations. 'If I'm estranged from my brother, what message am I giving my children?' he asks. 'That this is how we deal with conflict? That if something gets hard, we walk away?' Family therapist Karen Gail Lewis has spent decades working with adult siblings in Washington DC. She has identified 'four ghosts' – four hidden dynamics that shape and often sabotage adult sibling relationships. The first, frozen images, refers to the way we continue to see our siblings as they were decades ago. Lewis describes how her own brother still sees her as 'Little Blanche', the dutiful girl who couldn't possibly rebel – an image that can feel infantilising. While some frozen images are rooted in pain or conflict, others are born of admiration: the idealised frozen image. 'Sometimes, we don't resent our siblings – we revere them,' she says. 'And when they fall from that pedestal – cheat on a spouse, vote differently, fail in some visible way – it can feel like a betrayal not just of trust, but of identity.' Fionn* (41) idolised his sister growing up. Ailbhe* was five years older, and was confident and popular in a way that introverted and sensitive Fionn admired. When Fionn was in his mid-20s and his long-term girlfriend cheated on him, Ailbhe was his rock. It took him a long time to recover from the heartbreak and betrayal. Three years ago, when Fionn discovered that Ailbhe had cheated on her husband, he couldn't bear to look at her. 'She saw how much that broke me and then did it to her husband – it shattered my faith in her and in relationships generally. I never, ever thought she'd do that to someone and it made me think I'd never be able to be sure about anyone.' When Ailbhe's husband discovered the affair, the couple decided to work through it and are still together, but Fionn didn't speak to his sister for over a year. They're now 'civil' but Fionn admits he still finds it hard to reconcile the perfect image he had of his sister with what he now knows. 'Her husband has forgiven her, so I guess it doesn't make sense why I can't fully, but it's hard,' says Fionn. 'I wish I didn't know. I miss her.' Her now or the image he had of her? 'Both.' The second of Lewis's four ghosts is 'crystallised roles'. These are the rigid family roles assigned in childhood – the smart one, the rebel, the clown – which, over time, calcify into identities we cannot shake. A woman cast as the 'responsible one' may feel she must always hold everything together, while her 'troublemaker' brother is never expected to contribute. Even when siblings try to swap roles – the rebel gets sober, the golden child burns out – the family story often resists updating. The third is 'unhealthy loyalty'. Lewis recalls a man who had once been a high achiever but, after losing his job during the recession, felt an unexpected sense of relief. 'He said, 'Now when I visit my family, I feel more comfortable. I'm not so different from them any more.'' For years, his success had made him feel like an outsider. Without knowing it, he had been holding himself back – out of love, perhaps, but love in a distorted form. Finally, the fourth ghost is 'sibling transference', or the way we unconsciously replicate early sibling dynamics in our adult relationships with others. A woman who learned to manage her impulsive brother as a child may find herself drawn to a partner with similar traits. A man who felt invisible next to his overachieving sister may find himself triggered by competitive colleagues. We don't necessarily marry our siblings, Lewis says, but we often re-enact our sibling roles with those closest to us. Despite the deep significance of these dynamics, sibling therapy is not common. 'Therapists aren't trained to do this work,' says Lewis. 'Psychology schools don't teach sibling therapy. So even therapists who might be interested often don't have the tools.' Lewis trains other therapists, and sees this specialisation as urgent. 'I'm 81 in two weeks. I want this work to continue. I don't charge for training – I just want my expenses covered. I trained therapists in Estonia last year. I'd love to come to Ireland if anyone's interested.' Lewis says many siblings who seek therapy together aren't doing so from a place of harmony, and often, one sibling is driving the reconnection. 'One says, 'I haven't talked to her in six years, but we ran into each other and she agreed to come once just to shut me up.' But more often than not, they come back.' The work is often brief but transformative. 'Sibling therapy is often shorter than individual or couple therapy. People say, 'I've been in therapy 20 years for my trauma.' But if you never worked through how that trauma played out between you and your siblings, there's still residue.' Lewis is careful not to impose a one-size-fits-all notion of success on sibling therapy, saying, 'Some siblings end up close. Others get to 'We can be civil'. Some drop out of therapy and I think, 'Well, that didn't go anywhere,' and months later I get a letter saying it changed their lives. You just never know.' What she sees as most valuable is the opportunity to tell the truth and be heard. 'When siblings talk – really talk – about what it was like growing up together, things shift. Not always into harmony. But into clarity. And that's something most people never get to do.' Whyte agrees that there needs to be more awareness and access to therapy that isn't just focused on one person. 'In Ireland, we have a heavy reliance on individual models of therapy,' she explains. 'That means you're often working one-to-one, without hearing the different perspectives and stories within the family. So a lot of stories remain untold and unheard.' Whyte practices systemic family therapy, a collaborative approach that works with family members together – siblings, parents, even grandparents – to understand relational patterns and make meaning of shared experiences. Unlike individual therapy, which focuses on internal emotional states and personal growth, systemic therapy examines how people interact, how roles are reinforced, and how patterns get repeated – often unconsciously -across generations. 'Systemic family therapy looks at how we live our lives in connection with others – our family of origin, but also the family we create for ourselves,' she says. 'It's not just about individual change. It's about systemic change – looking at how we make meaning together, and how we can shift our shared dynamics.' But sibling therapy also requires a therapist with the right orientation – and access to that expertise can be uneven across the country. 'If someone doesn't live near a systemic therapist, they might only be offered individual therapy – psychodynamic, CBT, or otherwise – and those are valid approaches, but they don't necessarily bring the family into the room,' Whyte says. 'And that can limit what's possible in terms of repair.' Not every sibling story ends in reconciliation. For some people, like Sadhbh, distance feels like the only option to ensure her emotional safety. But Lewis and Greif believe that the stories we tell ourselves about our siblings – and the roles we play in theirs – can be rewritten, if we're willing to listen. 'You can't argue someone out of their pain,' Greif says. 'If your sister says, 'You never let me in your room as a kid,' don't say, 'You were annoying'. Say, 'I can understand why that hurt you'.' For those who unable to access therapy, Lewis offers a free downloadable book called Are You a Sibling? with practical tools and advice, and a guide for therapists on running sibling retreats. For individuals thinking of reaching out to a sibling they are estranged from, she recommends starting from a place of curiosity. 'If you're considering reconnecting, start by asking yourself, 'What's my frozen image? What role have I clung to? Am I holding myself back out of some warped sense of loyalty? Understanding yourself is the best place to start from.' *The names of siblings in this piece have been changed to protect the anonymity of interviewees.
