For starters, in order for you to understand how being the youngest sibling has been like for me, I must take you on a short flash back through time. So stay with me, things could get bumpy.
We start off in 1993. Bill Clinton was president, the cost of gas was about $1.18 a gallon and Whitney Houston was killing it on the charts with “I Will Always Love you.” Baby me was born in New York to my awesome parents who already had three daughters, yes you heard right, a family of majority girls. You must think my father went through hell living with all that estrogen. He did. For all my readers who grew up with sisters, I bow down to you. It’s hard living with girls especially when they are your own blood. It’s easy to recognize when someone is the baby of the family such as,
Your older siblings always teased you. Constantly.
Now of course I endured the causally teasing and name calling, I mean come on I was the baby of the house. I would run to my mom for everything. But man my sisters went above and beyond to make my days hard. The oldest one went as far as convincing me I was adopted! I didn’t have any baby photos because my parents worked a lot, so while all my others sisters practically had albums dedicated to them, I don’t pop up in the album until the age of 3 or 4.
Being compared to everything your siblings did.
If my sisters played a sport it was only obligated that I had to play the sport as well. Which sucked because I enjoyed many other things. Oh and don’t even get me started on scholastics. My sisters were practically the Albert Einstein’s of my family, while I attempted to catch up to their knowledge. I remember my high school teacher found out my last name and was surprised I wasn’t in higher-level classes. I should’ve just told her I was adopted, she probably would’ve believed that.
The power your siblings held against you.
No control over the TV remote or the radio station. It’s no wonder I grew up listening to hip-hop and rap because that’s what my sisters were listening to. But it was still cool when I got to watch Chucky at a young age, even though I had nightmares. If I ever saw them doing something bad I knew better than to rat them out or else I would be in a chokehold or worse, and shunned by them.
The pressures to be exactly like them.
Now this one is similar to being compared, but this one is something I still currently feel. When trying to decide my major my dad wanted me to do business because all my other sisters majored in it. But no, I wouldn’t have it. I finally rebelled! But two of my sisters graduated college in 5 years. So bringing up the idea to my dad about going a year over that was out of the question. End of rebellion.
Lastly though as corny as it may be, knowing that someone older is always looking out for you is the best feeling ever.
I have three additional parents who love me and always have my back. We may fight and argue but at the end of the day it’s all love.
This list could go on forever. But only do us youngsters really know the struggle of being the baby of the family. It’s not all bad as it seems, but in no way does that mean it isn’t as hard being the oldest or the middle child. That has a list all of its own.
