My family's narrative was that we are the losers, the anti-social, poor, unloveable ones. My mother was ruthlessly bullied, and so was my older sister. This was received as just the way our family is, rather than injustice.
But I wanted more. (& I was "the pretty one", at least when I started wearing makeup). I refused to accept this family narrative and worked really hard at making friends and at excelling at everything in order to be worthy.
Ironically, this rejection of the family story made me the black sheep. The more successful I become, the more they reject me.
I really think you’re on to something here! I was the “book smart” one, with no common sense. My sisters all had labels, too. I think we do carry this around without realizing that maybe it’s all totally inaccurate.
Oh I’d love to have a conversation with you about this topic. We absolutely did. My brother was the Smart One and I was the Pretty One and basically I’ve been unlearning what that taught me about myself to this day.
I was the middle child and only girl so my mom was pissed when I wasn’t particularly girly. She made me feel like something was deeply wrong with me when I wasn’t her mini me and hated shopping, lots of passive aggressive comments or straight up aggressive comments about how “you’re a girl, you’re supposed to do that/this.” I tried to be the smart one but it was never good enough (Asian mom so we were constantly compared to every other child) so I uh… I have a lot of baggage right now haha but I’m low contact with her now.
Yes I was nicknamed “the perfect child” 😬😬😬 I think a lot of these labels serve to perpetuate toxic family systems (where one child is the scapegoat, the other is the golden child, and there can be a lost child as well). In any case it’s so weird and reductive!!!
I'm a twin, so the labeling thing was kind of at a whole other level because we were always, always, always compared to each other. The one that sticks with me the most is that we were told that "Laura is smarter than you, but you work harder than she does" ... which bugged me FOR YEARS (and still does if I think about it too long) but took me into adulthood to realize how shitty it was for both us to have that be the narrative.
I love your son as patient coach, Maggie. So dear. I, of course, was the black sheep. I was the smart one, too, but I never fit in, really. And my mother made sure of that. Never getting me anything fashionable. Only what was "affordable". Somehow, always had the world's worst haircut. (She took me from past-my-ass Cher hair to a David Cassidy shag that I swear I'm still growing out.) I never got invited to join Blue Birds or Brownies or Girl Scouts or cotillion. And it wasn't until I was a grown-ass woman that I realized *she* got those invitations and kept them from me. (Like, they came from our school district. LOL.) So, maybe I'm not always the smart one. But I wear my black wool proudly. xo
My family's narrative was that we are the losers, the anti-social, poor, unloveable ones. My mother was ruthlessly bullied, and so was my older sister. This was received as just the way our family is, rather than injustice.
But I wanted more. (& I was "the pretty one", at least when I started wearing makeup). I refused to accept this family narrative and worked really hard at making friends and at excelling at everything in order to be worthy.
Ironically, this rejection of the family story made me the black sheep. The more successful I become, the more they reject me.
Good reflection on roles and estrangement.
Very well said and I think it might be more relatable than you might think
I really think you’re on to something here! I was the “book smart” one, with no common sense. My sisters all had labels, too. I think we do carry this around without realizing that maybe it’s all totally inaccurate.
Oh I’d love to have a conversation with you about this topic. We absolutely did. My brother was the Smart One and I was the Pretty One and basically I’ve been unlearning what that taught me about myself to this day.
I was the middle child and only girl so my mom was pissed when I wasn’t particularly girly. She made me feel like something was deeply wrong with me when I wasn’t her mini me and hated shopping, lots of passive aggressive comments or straight up aggressive comments about how “you’re a girl, you’re supposed to do that/this.” I tried to be the smart one but it was never good enough (Asian mom so we were constantly compared to every other child) so I uh… I have a lot of baggage right now haha but I’m low contact with her now.
Yes I was nicknamed “the perfect child” 😬😬😬 I think a lot of these labels serve to perpetuate toxic family systems (where one child is the scapegoat, the other is the golden child, and there can be a lost child as well). In any case it’s so weird and reductive!!!
I'm a twin, so the labeling thing was kind of at a whole other level because we were always, always, always compared to each other. The one that sticks with me the most is that we were told that "Laura is smarter than you, but you work harder than she does" ... which bugged me FOR YEARS (and still does if I think about it too long) but took me into adulthood to realize how shitty it was for both us to have that be the narrative.
Yeah. I'd like to publish more about sibling estrangement and the strain on those relationships. Also, I had no idea you were a twin!
I love your son as patient coach, Maggie. So dear. I, of course, was the black sheep. I was the smart one, too, but I never fit in, really. And my mother made sure of that. Never getting me anything fashionable. Only what was "affordable". Somehow, always had the world's worst haircut. (She took me from past-my-ass Cher hair to a David Cassidy shag that I swear I'm still growing out.) I never got invited to join Blue Birds or Brownies or Girl Scouts or cotillion. And it wasn't until I was a grown-ass woman that I realized *she* got those invitations and kept them from me. (Like, they came from our school district. LOL.) So, maybe I'm not always the smart one. But I wear my black wool proudly. xo
I am the youngest of four siblings. I don’t think much was expected of me, and I spend my life proving to them and myself that I am no runt.