Otto's Accomplishments

Surprisingly, I didn’t feel the urge to cry. There I was, standing amongst the rolling hills of Eagle Rock in Los Angeles, and my cheeks were as dry as the city’s desert climate. The day had come; it was time to say goodbye to my older brother, Otto, who was about to start college. Equipped with tissues in my pocket and mascara-free eyes, I had anticipated a day filled with tears. I cried when he broke his elbow in a nasty snowboarding accident and I cried at his graduation when the realization hit me that he would soon be leaving home. Yet when finally confronted with the momentous occasion of his departure, not a single tear welled in my eye.
For as long as I can remember, my brother and I were the best of friends. From both having palindromic names to bonding over far-flung adventures across the world, Otto and I were inseparable. Although we were a year and a half apart, the countless similarities we shared convinced people we were twins. Our childhood days were spent reenacting Scooby-Doo episodes, building Lego creations, and reading The Magic Treehouse books before bed. As the
Although inspired by both his academic and social achievements, a part of me still felt insecure. Would I ever be as good as Otto? My self-doubt started to cause turmoil in our relationship, and jealousy clouded my previous feelings of admiration. My need to match my brother's achievements began to escalate. Competing with him served as a driving force behind some of my many accomplishments, several far more commendable than Otto’s. My National History Day wins last year left not only me, but my entire school, family, and town feeling proud, and yet I still had that nagging feeling that I was not quite measuring up to my brother. Our friendship remained strong, but I worried that my respect for him would never be reciprocated. I was ensnared by the inescapable expectations of being known as “Otto’s little