Growing up as the middle child of three children, I wasn't the leader who could call the shots nor the baby whose antics were considered cute. I was the one who had to balance out the family. If my younger sister needed someone to take her to the store, I was chosen to go because my older brother was at work or out with his friends. If my brother needed moral support when he was having issues with a girl or with his band, I let him rant on and just listened without judging, because I was the second oldest and could remotely understand what he was going through. When disagreements/arguments erupted between my brother and sister, I also tried hearing out each side as best I could so they had an objective third party to talk to. On family outings or parties, I was the most mellow of the bunch, trying to go with the flow and be agreeable, while my brother felt too "cool" to be there and my sister felt too embarrassed or shy to talk to anyone. I'd like to think that my parents appreciated this, especially since I was also the one bringing home the straight A's on report cards. Sometimes my siblings would tease me and call me a nerd, but I shrug it off as jealousy and continued to kick ass in school.
On the other hand, I was the one who everyone just couldn't fully understand at times.
Since I had the role of good-girl-smarty-pants down to a tee, it got pretty stifling to keep it going all the time. For so long, I had tried so hard to be the perfect one of the family well throughout my teen years, especially when my mom had to constantly deal with issues that involved my siblings. The problem was, I was trying too hard to reach an unrealistic goal of perfection and was unfairly disappointed in myself when I didn't reach that goal. I wanted to make my parents happy, but I wanted to be happy for myself, too. If my siblings could unapologetically be themselves, why couldn't I do the same? I finally realized I could never be perfect--I had to just be me. I decided that I would do well in life to thank them for all the hard work they had put in to give me a good education and life, but I would also do what I wanted to feel true to myself.
So I maintained excellent grades all the way through college and held consistent jobs, but I also swore like a sailor and went out with friends to rock concerts and parties any chance I got. I'll never forget the look on my mom's face when I came home with a skull tattoo on my shoulder, while my dad needed a full day to process the fact that I wasn't as pristine as he thought. And that was okay. I didn't need anyone's approval to be happy, and if I wasn't hurting anyone while I lived my life, I shouldn't have to feel bad. (Traditional Mexican culture would also be partly to blame here, but that's another story for another day.)
So, yeah, there were good times and bad times growing up as the middle child. I look back fondly on those good times and squirm at the bad ones, but I'm glad I went through it all because it shaped me into the person that I am today. And at some point in your adult life you do have to let go of the past, forgive, and move on if you want to continue growing into an even better version of yourself... especially if you want to one day share yourself completely with someone who loves you for everything you are.
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| Rocking the Tweety bathing suit. |
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