Reflections on Family Dynamics: Understanding the Wounded Child Within

A Journey Through My Old Self

I found myself reflecting on my past and the complexities of my family relationships. This article delves into my experiences and emotions related to my siblings, exploring how these dynamics have shaped my sense of self. It’s an honest look at my old self and the wounded child within, trying to make sense of feelings of jealousy, inadequacy, and the lingering effects of being the youngest in the family.

My sister's wedding was a moment that profoundly affected me. I discovered it through a message, completely unaware beforehand. I received a single picture of the newlywed couple, followed by another of just the bride. Soon after, I learned that she was expecting a baby. Overcome with jealousy, I broke down in tears. It was a painful reminder of a condition I had been grappling with for years: Spoiled Brat Syndrome.

Life starts with the family, for better or for worse. We all have families, but we think of them in different ways. Some of us are more influenced by our families than others. I believe that families play a significant role in shaping an individual's behavior and beliefs. The more we interact with someone, the more we can influence their life. And the closest people to us tend to be our families.

Mind the Gap

I had two siblings who were 10 to 12 years older than me, so my experience was different from someone who grew up with siblings closer in age. Because of the age gap, I spent a lot of time by myself. While I was fascinated by Disney characters, my sisters were daydreaming about the Backstreet Boys. When I was preoccupied with high school drama, my sisters were finishing their master’s degrees and moving out of the family home. Somehow, I felt that we were constantly out of sync.

When I was a child, they were teenagers. When I was a teenager, they were young adults. When I was a young adult, they had children of their own. We were in different life stages. I got older but never old enough. The timing was never right, and I was always the baby sister.

The (Dis)Order

There are countless studies on birth order and its alleged impact on a child’s personality. Many psychologists disagree about how much of a role birth order actually plays in early development. Some suggest that siblings’ personalities differ because children adopt various strategies to win their parents’ attention. According to this theory, the oldest child may become more authoritative, while younger children might become rebellious. Through further research, I came across some common traits of oldest, middle, and youngest children.

Firstborns are believed to be natural leaders. Being the oldest child translates into certain family responsibilities that require governing skills from an early age. Often, firstborns serve as role models to their younger siblings. It is believed that firstborns tend to be more responsible and competitive than their younger siblings.

My oldest sister had to have control over everything. She knew best and was the ultimate example of how things should be done. I looked up to her and imagined growing up to be like her.

She was the good-looking one—tall, with long curly hair, a perfect body, and a Hollywood smile. She used to perform in the theater.

She never became a famous actress, but to me, she will always be a star. I had a love-hate relationship with her for years. She reminded me too much of our mom and liked to criticize. When I sought comfort and reassurance from her, I was usually faced with a mini version of our mom. We never established the relationship I wished for, and I could never fully open up to her because of my fear of judgment. I am very sorry about that.

Perhaps she is sorry too. It is not her fault that she was placed on the edge between being a parent and a sibling. She was the one who often nursed me, put me to sleep, and played with me. She used to retell the story of our first encounter. Her eyes would light up whenever she mentioned the moment our mom let her carry me. The baby picture of me is embedded in her memory. Maybe I shouldn’t take that memory away. Perhaps, because of her, I can be a child forever.

Being Switzerland

Middle children are often considered the most isolated, excluded, or even outright neglected due to their birth order. Alfred Adler, an Austrian psychiatrist, coined the term "Middle Child Syndrome" to describe this feeling of exclusion. Middle children are perceived as eager to please and impress their parents. They tend to be good at compromise, having learned to negotiate between bossy older and needy younger siblings. They can also be secretive and struggle with self-confidence.

My second oldest sister always puzzled me. I never knew what was truly going through her head or how she felt about certain things; I’m sure no one in the family did. In her 20s, she was slightly overweight and lacked confidence. She spent her evenings at home watching Dawson’s Creek while my oldest sister was out partying.

In my teens, we went to the cinema together and checked out a few rock gigs. We connected at that time. She was also perceived as the mild-tempered one. I saw her lose control only once. I believe my oldest sister and I pulled her into our conflict. We overstepped the line and made her explode with rage. The next thing I remember was holding hands with my oldest sister and running for our lives. From then on, we never pushed her buttons.

In her early 30s, she broke free from her cocoon. She became a confident, independent, and beautiful young lady. When I received news of her expecting a baby, I was still baffled as to why she had kept her wedding a secret. I was hurt, angry, and jealous. Later in the day, I received a message from my oldest sister, complaining that she wasn’t invited to the wedding. My response to her complaint was a complaint of my own.

But perhaps that day was not about me or my oldest sister. Perhaps it was about our middle sister. Maybe she struggled with her identity and felt she had no role in our family. Perhaps she didn’t feel special enough. Maybe getting married in secret, with only two friends and God as witnesses, made her feel special. If so, then I should not be angry. I should be sorry that she didn’t feel special when she needed to the most.

The Problem

Youngest children are often described as spoiled, impulsive, and willing to take risks. They are also known to get away with more, able to push the limits on rules that older siblings could not. This is because by the time the youngest sibling arrives, parents are less worried and loosen the boundaries. I have been reminded many times that I had more freedom than my sisters did at my age. I had fewer responsibilities and more opportunities for fun.

I was often compared to my siblings and rebelled to distinguish myself. I longed to be different—unique. At times, I was manipulative and used my charm to get out of trouble. Many times, my poor behavior was excused by my parents. While my sisters pursued careers in linguistics and medicine, I took a more creative approach. I dreamed of an audience and enrolled in Film Studies and Creative Writing.

My mom was 44 years old when she gave birth to me. At that time, in the country where I was born, she was considered the oldest mother to conceive naturally. Some believe that the youngest child is usually a “mistake.” I was told that I was “the only hope” to save my parents' marriage. Perhaps they lied to me, as youngest children are led to believe they’re invincible and important because no one ever lets them fail or get hurt.

The truth is that I did have more opportunities, more freedom, and more toys than my sisters. I was spoiled, irresponsible, needy, and rebellious. But everything comes with a price.

Acknowledgment

Dear sisters, you have known me my entire life. I know I have let you down. I have angered and disappointed you often. Both of you have disapproved of many of my choices. You have criticized and judged my opinions. You have wished more from me. But never have you stopped caring for me.

I wish to tell you that you have been right. I have been unreliable, impatient, oversensitive, obnoxious, and problematic. I had more power over our parents than you ever did, and I misused that power. I have manipulated and been mischievous. Often, I have been jealous. For many years, I have been jealous of the time—time I didn’t get to spend with you and our parents. My childhood was easier than yours, but the pass I was given came with a price.

I never spent enough time with our parents. They did not have as much energy for me as they did for you. I never saw our parents when they were young. I envied you for the time you spent with them before I was born.

I envied your friends, your boyfriends, your managers, your husbands, and your unborn children. I considered them competition. It is because of them that we are drifting apart.

How come I am two steps behind you? How come we can’t relate? Often, I wish to fast-forward my life and close the gap between us. I wish I had known you longer. You have made me who I am today. You have taught me to:

Imagine, Believe, Create, Follow, and Protect—My Dreams

Listen, Inspire, Provide, Help, and Protect—Those Around Me

Embrace, Appreciate, Forgive, Wait, and above all, to Love

Without you, I can’t imagine a world. Excuse my immaturity and please overlook the inner child that often cries for attention. It is hard to admit that I wish to be your baby sister forever. As the saying goes:

An older sister helps one remain half-child.

If you’re struggling with family dynamics and feel like the wounded child within you needs healing, I invite you to join our support group, TAR Anon for Families. Every Wednesday at 6 PM EDT (Miami time), we gather to help each other set boundaries, radically accept our issues, and re-parent ourselves. It’s a space to heal, grow, and move forward together. We all have to grow up one day, but with the right support, we can do so with grace and understanding. Join us and take the first step towards healing and personal growth.