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Oldest Child Syndrome

We always know best.

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Oldest Child Syndrome
Cheryl Roberson

2002

Mom was blowing bubbles, and the tub was entirely too full with the Elmo bubble bath, but we had not a care in the world. This was the one time Mom had relaxed the rule about splashes on the wooden wall. Our claw foot tub was filled the giggles and joy of two naked little girls splashing and popping the bubbles.

It was the best day ever. Six years old me was enjoying every minute with Mom and my new little sister. Miranda was but two years old and newly adopted into the family. I was enjoying getting to know her. We had our problems, but we were going to get along just fine. She didn’t talk much, but boy, was she expressive.

“Uh oh! We are all out!” Mom said, turning around to get some more bubbles.

“SHIT!” The scream was definite and sucked all the energy and joy from the room. I was shocked at the power that could from that whispy blonde hair.

POP. My mouth stung as my mom's hand made contact. I began to cry. The hit wasn’t hard, just firm enough to get my attention.

“It wasn’t me! It wasn’t me!” I protested. “It was Miranda!” I shouted through the tears, holding my cheek, milking my pain for all it was worth. Mom’s face grew even angrier.

“Your sister doesn't talk!” She said, turning back around.

I shifted my focus to the little demon that waded next to me among the bubbles. I gave her a look that demanded to know the meaning of this offense. My gaze was met with that devious smirk that would become all too familiar. She snickered and continued to play with the toys in the bubbles.

Oldest Child Syndrome…

But, if you are the oldest in your family you know exactly what I am talking about. If you are the youngest, well listen up because this is what you have caused for us.

A life of hardship and turmoil. Because of you, we suffer from an incurable curse, oldest child syndrome and those who suffer from OCS deal with lasting effects as a result.

Too Much Responsibility

When you are the oldest, you'll learn the art of being responsible for everyone and everything. It’s both a blessing and a curse, because while everyone can rely on you, but at the same time you are unable to stop. You never know when something is and isn’t your responsibility.

We tend to take far too much burden on ourselves, and we have to learn when enough is enough. Because we are natural caretakers, we tend to bite off more than we can choose, be taken advantage of, and blame ourselves. One of the biggest things that I struggle with is saying “no” and understanding when something is my fault or not.

The Goodie Two Shoes

We are notorious rule followers, mostly because we were always the ones enforcing the rules when Mom and Dad weren’t around. We are the ones who have to be the role model. When I was a kid, I was an undying tattletale. Everything someone did “wrong” had me running to the person in charge.

I once sat in a room behind myself because we weren't allowed to watch Rugrats. My sister of course sat and watched it when it was playing. I did my job and told the person babysitting us that we were NOT allowed to watch Rugrats. She didn’t care, and I sat alone in the room because I was going to obey my mom.

Thank God I was homeschooled, I probably would have been beaten up a time or two.

The Protector

We tend to be fiercely protective over the ones we love; mostly because we were in charge of looking after the little ones. We have learned to nurture and care for other people. We tend to take those who are younger under our wing, and we want to protect them and help them to succeed.

But we have to be careful because in doing this we sometimes lose sight of ourselves. We have to learn to take to take care of our needs before someone else. I know that I struggle with learning to take care of myself and my needs before I focus on helping somebody else. It’s one of my biggest struggles.

Regardless of these bad habits, we have learned from being the oldest sibling; I know that many of us wouldn’t change it for the world. Even though we were the first trial for our parents and the little ones get away with way more than we ever could.

We still love them with all of our hearts and would take a bullet for them. I know that I enjoy the privilege of torturing mine relentlessly, I have to do something to get her back for the psychological damage she caused me.

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