Ever since childhood, I have felt the woes of this so-called “middle child syndrome.” If you don’t know what this is, I’ll explain it to you. Basically, the middle child of a family is usually the forgotten kid. The oldest child is likely the star of the family, setting the standard. While the youngest child is the baby, having a smoother ride through life. Leaving the middle child as… the quiet, forgotten kid. And, that’s me!
My family consists of my father, mother, older sister Andrea and younger sister Michaela. A quaint family of five living in a quaint suburban neighborhood.
I remember the day my younger sister was born in 2003. I was four years old, it was a hot summer day. I remember holding Michaela in my arms and taking her home from the hospital. It was a life-changing first few weeks, being an older sister for the first time.
Weeks soon turned into months that turned into years, and suddenly my little sister is turning three years old. Our house was somehow feeling smaller than usual. This is when my life changed.
The first time middle child syndrome kicked in was when I lost my own room to my little sister. Andrea and I had to share a room for the next five or so years.
After that, Andrea was done with me, so I got kicked out and I moved into my old room with my little sister. This lasted for a while since we were the younger kids and my preteen sister just needed to have her own space. It was super hard for me.
Don’t get me wrong, I love being super close with my sisters. Sharing a room with both of them helped me develop a bond with them that I’m super grateful for. But it was hard on me because I just never had my own space just to breathe. I had a lot of trouble talking to my parents about my struggle being the middle child because it was difficult to talk about my own feelings.
My sisters are super similar. They’re both Leo’s and I’m an Aquarius, so it’s evident that we are two very different kinds of people. They are more expressive with their feelings than I am, which is a major reason why my middle child syndrome has always burdened me.
For a while, I never knew that middle-child syndrome was even a thing, I always just thought that I felt “forgotten” because I was the more shy and quiet type. Now I’m starting to think that there is something magical about the middle child.
The middle child is one that doesn’t have the easiest time speaking up, but rather is a great listener. The child that doesn’t always know how to communicate, but is able to grow into their own self esteem.
One day, if I have children of my own, I hope to make it known to my middle child that they are not weaker or less important than their siblings, or anyone for that matter. What is important is for them to know their worth from a young age, and stand strong in their ability to be proud of their middle childness.
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