On Why I Love To Hate Being The Oldest

On Why I Love To Hate Being The Oldest

Little Sisters, man...
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It is inevitable that in every family that does not have only one child that there will be an oldest. In my family, that position falls to me. And in many ways it is miserable, but in many other ways, it is the best thing that could happen to me.

When asked, my little sister always replies that she "loves being the youngest because she gets all the attention" and in many ways, this is true. Despite being only a year away from high school, my mother seems to be under the impression that she is literally an infant (and probably will be for all of eternity). If she does something wrong or forgets to put something away, she is always excused with the explanation that she is "so little!"

Me, on the other hand, had the exact opposite hand.

I was told that I was "older" and it was "my responsibility" to take care of things such as putting clothing away, or driving my siblings' places, or helping my mom out with chores around the house. Just as she will always be an infant in my mother's eyes, I will always be a wise old woman.

She got a phone in third grade, while I had to wait until middle school. Because "times are changing!" She can watch whatever show she wants, even though I had parental censors on my life until I was all but packing my belongings into college boxes. She has a comprehensive list of which classes to take in high school, while I discovered it all through trial and error. In many ways, she lives a life that is easier than mine.

However, there are two sides to every coin. She gets babied, this is undeniable. And while this is fun when you're in elementary school, no 13-year-old wants to hear it. She has 4 sets of eyes judging her every move (my brother and I are essentially the second set of parents), something I never had to deal with. She is out of the loop: she doesn't get half of the jokes that we make at dinner, and can't understand half of the arguments that we have.

And she doesn't get to have the joy of watching a baby sister grow up.

It is one of the most beautiful things, to somehow watch her morph from this thing that just slept and cried into a human being. Into a little sister that I could order around and dress up and until she finally became a best friend that I can share stories with and laugh with and gossip with and simply be with.

Every time I come home from college it seems that she has aged years, and before I know it the 6 years between us will simply vanish into oblivion, and we will become equals in almost every sense of the word. It is both a bizzare and beautiful phenomenon to watch her grow, and one that I would not give up for the world.

So yes, maybe she gets favored, and maybe she gets coddled, and maybe she has it easier. But in the end, I get the better end of the deal. Besides, who would want to be an infant for all of eternity, anyway?

Cover Image Credit: Pexels

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The Thank You My Dad Deserves

While our moms are always the heroes, our dads deserve some credit, too.
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Dear Dad,

You’ve gone a really long time without being thanked. I'm not talking about thanks for things like opening the Gatorade bottle I couldn't or checking my tires when my car’s maintenance light is flashing, but rather the thanks I owe you for shaping me into the person I am today.

Thank you for teaching me what I deserve and for not letting me settle for anything less.

While the whole world was telling me I wasn’t good enough, you were there to tell me I was. Whether this was with boys, a friend, or anything else, you always built my confidence to a place I couldn’t build it to on my own. You showed me what my great qualities were and helped me feel unique. But most of all, you never let me settle for anything less than what I deserved, even when I wanted to. Without you, I wouldn’t be nearly as ambitious, outgoing or strong.

Thank you for giving me someone to make proud.

It’s hard to work hard when it’s just for myself, but so easy when it’s for you. All through school, nothing made me happier than getting a good grade back because I knew I got to come home and tell you. With everything I do, you give me a purpose.

SEE ALSO: 20 Things You Say When Calling Your Dad On The Phone

Thank you for showing me what selflessness looks like.

You are the prime example of what putting your family first looks like. If me wanting something means that you can’t get what you want, you’ll always sacrifice. From wearing the same t-shirts you’ve had since I was in elementary school so I could buy the new clothes I wanted, to not going out with your friends so you could come to my shows, you never made a decision without your family at the forefront of your mind. If there is one quality you have that I look up to you for the most, it’s your ability to completely put your needs aside and focus entirely on the wants of others.

Thank you for being the voice in the back of my head that shows me wrong from right.

Even though many of your dad-isms like “always wear a seatbelt” easily get old, whenever I’m in a situation and can’t decide if what I’m doing is right or wrong, I always can hear you in the back of my head pointing me in the right direction. While I may not boost your ego often enough by telling you you’re always right, you are.

Thank you for being real with me when nobody else will.

Being your child hasn’t always been full of happiness and encouragement, but that’s what makes you such an integral part of my life. Rather than sugarcoating things and always telling me I was the perfect child, you called me out when I was wrong. But what separates you from other dads is that instead of just knocking me down, you helped me improve. You helped me figure out my faults and stood by me every step of the way as I worked to fix them.

Most of all, thank you for showing me what a great man looks like.

I know that marriage may seem very far down the road, but I just want you to know that whoever the guy I marry is, I know he’ll be right because I have an amazing guy to compare him to. I know you’re not perfect (nobody is), but you’ve raised me in a such a way that I couldn’t imagine my kids being raised any differently. Finding a guy with your heart, drive, and generosity will be tough, but I know it will be worth it.


Dad, you’re more than just my parent, but my best friend. You’re there for me like nobody else is and I couldn’t imagine being where I am now without you.

Love you forever,

Your little girl

Cover Image Credit: Caity Callan

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Fiction On Odyssey: Until The End

It's nice to have a peaceful day, but nothing is peaceful when you're with your best friend.

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I walk cheerfully throughout the house, humming Beethoven's fifth symphony. It's not every day where I can have a good day. With school, job, volunteer work and other stuff, it's hard to find a day where I can relax. As I enter the kitchen, I notice Michael leaning against the counter drinking orange juice.

"Well, I see you let yourself into the house," I state as I walk towards the cabinet to get a glass. I fill it up to the brink and take large gulps.

"That's what happens when you give me your house key," He says, smiling sweetly.

"I gave it to you for emergencies!" I say with fake anger.

"I was thirsty!" Michael exclaimed back.

"Being thirsty is not an emergency."

"It is if food is your life!"

"You're unbearable."

"I know."

We both look at each other and burst out laughing. Michael is leaning against the chair trying not to fall but failed miserably. Now, he is rolling on the floor, laughing so hard, no noise is even coming out. I'm leaning on the counter, trying to breathe but failing miserably.

We finally calm down, try to start breathing properly and wipe tears from our eyes. I turn my head and see my older brother staring at us as if we were going insane before telling us,

"I wanted some peace, so I thought to myself why not go home, but then I remembered that you live in it too."

Michael sticks his tongue out at him, and he sticks his back out before going upstairs to his room. We both sigh and sit down on the couch in the living room and stare at the TV. Usually, we would find something stupid to do, but we just sat there. Michael's head leaned against my shoulder, which looks like he is hunched over due to the fact that he is taller than me. I sat there continuing to hum Beethoven's fifth symphony when I heard the front door knob jiggle.

Michael lifts his head and turns to see who's going to come in. The front door view was blocked by a wall, so we couldn't see who would come in from our vantage point. We both have our heads peeking from the top of the couch, watching silently to see who comes in.

"I hope it's the FBI!"

He turns to stare at me with an incredulous look, saying, "Are you insane? Did you do something to draw the attention of them?"

I look at him from the corner of my eyes and whisper to him, "I've never seen anyone kick a door in before. It's so exciting! And no, I didn't do anything."

"Knowing you, I bet you did," Michael whispers back.

"Shut up or they'll know we're home."

We continue to stare until the door opens. We both hold out breaths and lower our heads in an attempt to hide.

"The door wasn't broken, so we can rule out the FBI," Michael states. I roll my eyes at him and stare to see whoever walks through the door.

"Kids, I'm home!"

My eyes widen. She's home early. She must have had a quiet day today at work.

"Hi, mom!" I hear my brother yell from upstairs. My mom chuckles and looks towards us with a questioning look in her eyes, to which Michael replies with while pointing his finger at me,

"She thought you were the FBI." I shoot Michael a glare. My mom laughs at this and whispers to herself as she walks upstairs to get cleaned us, "What am I going to do with you kids."

We sat there on the couch, the house quiet minus the yelling from my brother who is probably playing Fortnite.

"You ever wonder about the future?" Michael asks me with a thoughtful expression.

"I do, sometimes," I reply back.

"You ever notice how we are told to follow our dreams and work hard, but in the end, it doesn't matter? People just say that, but don't mean it, because it's all about money to them."

"Ya. Why can't we make money doing what we love? It might not be a lot, but at least every day won't be dreadful," I reply back softly.

"Well, I say screw all of them. It's going to be a long and painful journey, but we have to hope that in the end, it will all be worth it, plus I've got you to drag me out of trouble."

"I couldn't agree with you more," I replied, smiling at him, wondering where I found an amazing friend.

"I help up my pinky finger to her, smile, and say, "Until the end?"

He looks and me, smiles, and hooks his pinky around mine and says to me, "Until the end."

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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