empiricism

being the middle child is kind of a drag. while i do my best never to praise myself in public, i have decided, after careful consideration, that i'm a pretty legitimate example of the classic middle child with middle child syndrome.

i was the middle child of three daughters for the majority of my formative years, so it seems that being the middle child has been ingrained into my very being. my middle child role has become such a significant aspect of my character that it has quite substantially shaped me to be who i am right now.

technically, i'm not really the middle child any more. i'm supposed to be the younger older sister of four girls, but to be hair-splittingly honest, i don't think i will ever stop being the middle child. it's on my fingerprints and has been very decidedly stamped onto my forehead.

being the middle child is kind of a drag. being in the middle means that you're constantly forgotten and often neglected. now i'm probably the last person in the world to jump out at any opportunities for attention but hey, i'm still a human like anyone else, and no one in the world totally wants to be left alone and forgotten no matter how moody and crusty they get, especially not with the people they're closest to.

being in the middle just means you're kind of disremembered along the way. sometimes it's a sort of advantage for me, when i'm dying to be left alone-- but within my family, the people that i love and respect, it does slightly hurt.

i love my family. i think i have the best family in the world and my parents are literally better than everyone else's (i have a right to my opinion, OK!!) and my sisters are wonderful and i generally just have the greatest family ever. this then gives me cause to believe very, very strongly that it's not their fault. it's not their fault that i sometimes feel this way because it's just that. the middle child gets forgotten. no family, not even the best one on earth ★coughminecough★, is immune to the ravages of the middle child syndrome.

ok, i admit that there are some families i know who don't seem to have obvious middle children with middle child problems. my personal reasoning for their unfair lack of issues is that these technical middle children probably were a different gender from their siblings, or didn't grow up as the middle among their siblings; like they were probably the family babies in their formative years before their younger sibs came along so they unfairly escaped the torments that we less fortunates went through. anyway, i'm going to forget these people for the rest of this entry because they aren't in the pain club and don't know what i'm talking about and are ultimately irrelevant!

getting back to the main matter, i've noticed that one of the distinct marks of the middle child is that s/he is (or at least feels like) just a filler. the eldest child is the leader, the youngest is the pet, and the middle child is the stuffing. we're just here to make up the numbers. we're the child our parents' friends don't remember; the one who's absence is unnoticed. sometimes we're basically nameless.

don't misunderstand, this is not a pity party! there are also many great things about being a middle child. it's nice to be forgotten when menial tasks need to be done, and when you're meeting parents' friends who are also awful and you can get out of talking to them because they don't care about you (thank God!). i mean, being the middle child is pretty freeing if you think carefully about it. my parents don't fawn over me, and check over everything i do, nor do they expect me to be The Responsible One. i'm at liberty to be myself without the pressure of my parents' constant supervision.

being the middle child is kind of a drag, but it's kind of great too. just like every difficult situation in life, it's an adventure and a challenge, something that moulds you and turns you into something beautiful and unique and special. ok so occasionally my parents forget i exist, and people only know me as so-and-so's sister, and it seems like no one understands me, but in the end, i'm glad i am the middle daughter. i'm glad that i go through all this crap because now i can understand what other people are going through. it's the pits to be forgotten, but now that i know what it's like to be invisible, other people's struggles become clearer to me. i recognise the struggling, and i understand that pain, and i realise that maybe somehow i can be a friend to those who feel like no one cares about them.

i used to think no one loved me at all, and sometimes even now these thoughts come back to me every once in awhile. i know what it feels like to believe the world is against you and that you're the scum of the earth. it's horrible and painful on the inside, and i'm sorry that anyone has to ever feel that way, because i know it feels terrible.

yet i don't regret ever getting to such a point. for their sake i regret doubting my parents and my family and their love for me, but i don't regret the times i spent sighing and crying and aching and sobbing, because these are experiences and exposures that help me to understand the pains that others go through. i am so glad that i have this pathway to empathy. only by having lived the misery do i ever get to genuinely commiserate with people who are hurting inside themselves.

if i had a chance to relive my life i think i'll do it the same way, even if it means that i have to sacrifice my eyes and my tears and the throbs of my heart all over again. i hate being introverted and shy and sensitive, and feeling things so deeply, but if it helps me (though other people have different ways) be a better friend, sister and daughter, then i will happily resign myself to my circumstance, and accept it with a full heart, knowing that it is all for the good will of God who makes everything wonderful and beautiful in His time.