Laments of the Eldest

Who here is the oldest sibling?

I am.

I can't remember my youngest years, although have been reassured that being the oldest grandchild on my mom's side of the family, the oldest granddaughter on my dad's and the first born to my parents, that I was spoiled absolutely rotten. Of course I was.. did they have a choice?

I have a vague memory of being very young after the conception of my younger brother and understanding that although my excitement over having a new sibling was merited, I knew that I would no longer be the 'only' one people had to croon over.

After Trinity was born, I, like all my relatives, fawned over the new baby. I was after all, Big Sister, sworn protector of baby brother. Unfortunately this also meant that if he gave the dog a treasured toy that she swiftly chewed to bits, I also got to play scapegoat and take the blame.

So now here I am, I'm 21 years old, and I've just realized that for the last 9 years of my life I've been sold short for the prodigal son.

I have another brother, too. He just turned 12 and I can understand (or at least appreciate) more about him than I can ever hope to understand about Trinity.

I know most families have a sort of hierarchy, although the parents will 9 times out of 10 deny with their last dying breath that there's EVER a 'favorite'. I know better. It's why I refuse to have kids. I know myself better, so why would I subject multiple beings of my own body to having to put up with the torment of NOT being the favorite?

In any case, it goes much like this in my family:
-My youngest brother, Garhett, is much like my dad. I hate to use the word 'simple', but for the most part they are. They have a goal in life, mainly making money, and would be happy as long as they are able to provide. They enjoy the same sorts of things, enjoy spending time together and are just the same 'type' of people.
-Trinity is, as I've mentioned, the prodigal son. As long as he brings home good marks on his report cards, denoting a promising future, Mom will dote on him as much as possible. He asks, she will provide, or at least attempt to.
-I am, have been, and will likely continue to be the black sheep of the family. I tried hard to meld with both of my parents, taking interest in some of their choice hobbies, trying to be an equally good daughter to both. Unfortunately... I was also a teenage girl. I liked boys (trouble), parties (more trouble) and trying so hard not to fit into a mold (*sigh* the fight for individuality) that I became painfully more and more like every other teenage girl on the face of the planet. Seventeen magazine doesn't tell you that by trying to 'be your own person' you end up looking like everyone else. If I could re-do it, I'd never try. I'd just be.

Anyway, most of the time I don't bemoan that fact.. I sort of relish in being the black sheep. I don't have to live up to anyone's expectations or expect to crush (or at least injure) their feelings and shatter the golden image they have of me. I am free to be me. I love that.

I can't, however, deny the fact that it hurts that in the past few months, as the 'golden child' is handed more and more things in the guise of Grad or Birthday presents, I'm still fighting for a few small things.

It also hurts that things that could have been integral in starting my career of choice were denied to me due to lack of money or interest on the part of my parents. I don't want to sound like I'm whining, but it does seem a little crass that certain things are just handed over to one child for simply asking, while the other stops nothing short selling their soul to get the same thing and only ever recieves a simple 'No'.

I know. Life is unfair. It's the sentiment you all want to give to me right now. It just doesn't cut it.

I also don't want to sound like my parents are horrible or anything, because they're not. They always provided for me what I needed and tried to keep me as happy as was usually possible, and I don't deny I was a difficult teen, but I just really wish the wound would stop being rubbed with salt. It hurts.

So in closing.. to all you middle and youngest children out there who are still upset that your older sibling got to stay up later than you all those nights..

Don't bitch! It may be all we got!