I’m second best in a house that has only one child
Validation is a high you cannot beat. Take it from me. To be seen for what you are and even liked for it. To be wanted for it. Gods. I couldn’t begin to tell you how euphoric that feels. The high of belonging somewhere without having to ask. To be fucking enough to be good. But before we get to the reward, let’s start at the beginning. When you grow up in a house that has only one child you learn to do it all. Making room. Making space. It all becomes instinct after a while. Cutting corners and cutting off more of yourself to squeeze into places that you don’t belong to. Pacifying, perfecting and playing the part to keep the peace. No ripples, no rocking, nothing to shake the flimsy sense of self-worth that comes with, “Could be better, Can be more.” An almost. A could have been. One that falls short of just enough to never be enough. So it becomes a performance. An act, if you will. To take on these expectations, to shoulder this responsibility and make a productio...