Or, At Least That’s What You Think
My oldest sister, Kathy, felt the crush of competitiveness in our family the most.
And why shouldn’t she? After all, she was succeeded, one after another, by 5 cute little bundles that usurped her crown.
And meanwhile, more and more responsibilities were dumped on her little shoulders
Coming in at number 5, I was pretty damn lucky. I captured Daddy under my spell, and nabbed the title of Daddy’s Favorite. I had all sorts of emotional meltdowns as an adolescent– ploys my parents apparently fell for. Thus giving me even more attention!! HAH!
Meanwhile my older siblings duked it out with my completely ADORABLE little chubby-cheeked, curly-haired little sister for the five minutes of time my parents had left between them.
No wonder my older siblings are tweaked.
It’s the Nature of the human condition to search out the one we perceive as like-us-yet-a-bit-better.
Then, we usually either 1) choose to feel bad about ourselves because we aren’t that awesome, that tall, that busty, that brilliant, that great at dunking a basketball. Or,
2) We do that other thing. Be Good To Ourselves.
Being nice to NUMERO UNO tends to translate in our twisted minds into a recipe for taking the shortest slip-and-slide to Hell. Our Puritan ancestry has ingrained an inhumane selflessness that has become a real sickness, in my humble opinion.
So we spend a lot of time getting down with our bad selves. And no one ever achieves success(!) in the wrestling ring of self-esteem.
I am always in there stomping the sh*t out of myself, slapping myself around, and telling myself to get over myself. Thank god SOMEONE finally rings the bell and I get the chance to call myself over to my corner for a little pep talk with myself.
Yeah, I am using a really EXTENDED metaphor on purpose. Because, ALL of that competition, that angst, that madness, and that blame, I know, comes from my own place of insecurity.
When I am winging out at the people around me who are just a bit “not enough” for me, when I take a break, I see the same things almost every time.
Man, I am pissed at myself for not being ENOUGH.
Old habits do die hard. It’s easy to just sit around repeating the same “I suck and isn’t that successful bitch over there a such whore?” script again and again. Don’t we know all it well?
But, oddly, only good things come from raising other people up.
And from raising up NUMERO UNO.
Now, if ONLY I can get my amazing sister to read this… hmmmm…
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