I don't know about you, but I never let anyone forget that I am a middle child. It's a part of who I am, but it's also a great explanation, excuse, cop-out for when things go wrong -- and, boy, does that happen all too often. But never fear. When we're not being shoved to the side or wreaking havoc just to assure someone that we are, in fact, still alive, things are pretty good. As good as they can be, that is, when you were never coddled at birth.
1. You aren't on a tight leash.
"Blessed is the one who nobody pays attention to, for they may cause a ruckus with little interference," said every middle child ever. You see, when you're all but invisible, your coming and goings are less noted and it's easier to slide under the radar (if that's your kinda thing). It also means that sometimes you can get away with acting a bit crazier than your other siblings and forget about what others think, because, after all, no one's thinking about you. Say weird things! Develop weird hobbies! Listen to weird music! No one cares! Honestly, you're wired to be weird just by virtue of birth order so you might as well embrace it.
2. You are a natural-born fighter.
From the moment my little brother was born, I was put on the defensive. Three-year-old me looked at this bundle of smelly flesh and blood and thought, "Well, crap, I'm gonna have to do something about this." And, oh, how I did. I pretty much terrorized his young birthday parties, unwrapping his presents and infuriating my parents with my high-pitched squeals. And when I felt unfairly persecuted (which was only always), I never let anyone off the hook. But I digress. The main idea is this: self defense is the name of the game when you're a middle child, because trouble is never far off when you're constantly trying to get people's attention -- lest they should deign to forget you exist again (how dare they).
3. You get to play the guilt card all the time.
All the time, folks. Christmas Eve dinner, a random car ride to the grocery store, any time you come home from college/kindergarten/your CEO position at Reebok; you best believe middle children are playing with a full deck when it comes to guilt trips.
Hey, Ma, remember that time I was punched in the face and suffered a bloody nose at the hands of my own sister, and no one made a big deal out of it? What about that time the whole fam was late for my graduation? Or when my brother missed my birthday two years in a row for "more important" things? (cough, cough, prom; cough, cough, someone else's birthday party).
I'll never forget the time when my sister had a recital, I had a race, and my brother had something so obviously important that it's already slipped my memory -- all happening the same weekend. That's right; one weekend, two parents, three options. Guess which child was left hanging?
4. You're a rare commodity.
It's not just any average person who grows up intermittently switching between bossing around their younger sibling(s) and then asking their older sibling(s) for help and guidance with wide eyes and reverence. It takes talent to switch roles so flawlessly. Plus, during a time when two-kid families are the norm, us middle children are rays of light in an otherwise banal family existence. We probably weren't dropped at birth like the oldest or forced to grow up too fast like the youngest, so if we were left behind at our own baseball game, it's really not that big a deal. It happens, right?
5. The expectations for you are really, really low.
Milk it, guys and gals. The world is your oyster. No one expects you to pop out the first child, get the best grade, or make the most money, so really anything you do will make you a success. No one notices when you mess up. Don't kid yourself; the term "pressure" doesn't exist in your vocabulary. Heck, you might as well join the circus, become a professional hitchhiker, ship off to Alaska! Or, alternatively, you could win a Nobel Peace Prize, score a gig in MSG with your band or invent a flying car that would give Chiddy Chiddy Bang Bang a run for its money. No one cares, remember?
6. You have a built-in connection with people all over the world.
That's right. I'm talking about fellow middle children! Hello, kindred! We are practically brethren at this point, in a way that our real siblings never will be. I feel your feels, I know your pain, I recognize your existence. Anytime I encounter another middle child, I'm automatically inclined to like them, just by virtue of our shared history. United through mutual exclusion. Always a solid foundation for a beautiful friendship.
7. You're the underdog.
And underdogs are always winners.
Bow down to us, peasants.
