I never liked to believe in cliches. I didn’t like to believe that people with tattoos are likely to be risk takers and I didn't like to believe that blondes are dumb. But growing up there was one cliche that I felt was so blatantly true that it hurt. Middle children are the weird ones in the family, the black sheep, the odd one out. Growing up in a family of three kids made this reality all too real for me.

I have an older brother, David. He is the football player, lacrosse player, party-goer, and growing up, he couldn’t be seen anywhere without his three best friends. There wasn’t one Saturday night David spent home watching Harry Potter with our parents and me. David was cool, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t one of the tons of people that were desperate for his approval.

Then we have Amelia. Oh, growing up everyone knew my little sister. Sometimes I don’t like to call her my “little” sister because we are on such different spectrums. Amelia was class treasurer, she had 13 best friends, to top it all off, Amelia was Prom queen while I struggled to find people to sit with at my own prom.

And then we have me, Lyra. Most of my Saturday nights were spent with Daniel Radcliffe and Emma Watson. I had one best friend who was a boy, and I played soccer. There was not much depth to me, my biggest claim to fame was being the third Biancamano.

Most of my life, I've hated this. I resented David for having friends and I resented Amelia for having it all, but more than this, I hated how close they were and how no matter how hard I tried, I was never going to be anything like them. And I resented them for that. I hated it so much and I began to hate myself in the process. Why couldn’t I have friends? Why couldn’t I be cool? What was wrong with me? I was the weird one in the family and they hated me for it. I knew they hated me.

With these thoughts spinning wildly in my head, I began to distance myself. I let David and Amelia slip out of my life. I let my own fears and insecurities expel them. They don’t care right? They don’t need me. Amelia doesn’t need her big sister and David doesn’t need another little sister to look up to him.

Like most times in my life, I was wrong. Banishing someone from your life doesn’t defeat your own demons. I didn’t resent them because of who they were, I resented them because of who I was. I wasn’t cool, I didn’t party, I didn’t have friends.

My brother and sister were not the reason I was unhappy. I was. I wasn’t happy with myself and that was what was making me feel like "the unimportant middle child." No, I am not like my brother and I am not like my sister. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love them and they don’t love me. It’s really an issue of learning to love yourself. If you are the odd one out in your family of geniuses, or Ms. America’s, or athletes, consider yourself lucky.

My siblings and I are not best friends. But I would travel the universe and back for them if they needed my help. I would give them everything I have and I know they would do the same. I know they will always be each others' best friends, and I may be the one on the outside. But I guess if I can be okay and confident with who I am, none of that really matters. You should know you are a wonderful, capable human-being, and while you don’t posses the qualities of your siblings, you have your own and that in itself is something to be proud of.