The other day I read an article about parental favoritism and it got me thinking about my personal experience being a middle child of five. I recall feeling depressed and isolated and I've always thought it was just me, but I guess there really is something to birth order. Parental investment naturally varies and my parents are certainly humans. I was a bad kid. There is no doubt about it. But is it possible I did bad things because I was reciving the message that being good( like my older siblings) was fruitless and that I should be trying a different strategy for attention? Even as a youngster I knew the reason for my younger siblings getting extra attention and that it was natural for everyone to love the youngest. There was no competing with the younger sibling from my perspective. It was natural to feel some resentment but we all got along fairly well.
I read about middle child syndrome and even though my whole life I suffered from such, I rejected the notion until very recently.
http://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s12110-003-1017-x?LI=true
http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/00224545.1995.9712218
Anyway, I fit the profile. I guess I have some answers to where I went wrong and some things are beginning to make sense to me. I know that I'm not alone and very likely my parents were not aware. I think I learned to live in a world of denial as a defense mechanism. I always believed my parents loved us all equally, but sadly, the reality was they couldn't possibly have treated us equally.
I read about middle child syndrome and even though my whole life I suffered from such, I rejected the notion until very recently.
http://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s12110-003-1017-x?LI=true
http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/00224545.1995.9712218
Anyway, I fit the profile. I guess I have some answers to where I went wrong and some things are beginning to make sense to me. I know that I'm not alone and very likely my parents were not aware. I think I learned to live in a world of denial as a defense mechanism. I always believed my parents loved us all equally, but sadly, the reality was they couldn't possibly have treated us equally.