always not enough. taken for granted.
Growing up as the second child is like living in someone else’s shadow. Have you ever felt like no matter what you do, it’s never enough? That’s my life. My older sibling’s accomplishments always seem to outshine mine. When they do something, it’s a big deal. When I do something, it’s just okay.
There are times when I wondered if my parents even see me. My older siblings get the praise, the attention, the love. I get what’s left over. It’s like they’re the sun, and I’m just a star trying to shine in the night sky. It hurts more than I can say.
Why is it that my efforts seem invisible? I worked hard, I tried my best, but it feels like no one notices. The good grades, the little achievements—none of it seems to matter as much as what my sibling does. It’s like I’m living in a world where I’m always in second place, never in the first place.
‘You’re strong, you can handle it.’ That’s what they tell me. But what if I can’t? What if inside, I’m breaking apart? They think I don’t need support because I don’t ask for it. But the truth is, I’m scared to ask. I’m scared they’ll tell me to just snap out of it, like it’s that easy.
There’s a deep loneliness in being the second child. It’s a feeling of being overlooked, of being an afterthought. My sibling gets the firsts—the first praise, the first love, the first everything. I get what’s left. And it feels like it’s never enough.
I wish my parents could understand how much it hurts. The constant comparisons, the feeling of never measuring up—it’s like a weight I carried all the time. They see my sibling as the strong, capable one. Me? I’m just there, trying to keep up, trying to be noticed.
It’s hard to express this pain. They see me smiling, doing well in school, but they don’t see the nights I cried myself to sleep. They don’t hear the thoughts in my head telling me I’ll never be good enough. It’s a struggle no one sees, a silent battle I fight every day.
Why can’t I be more like my sibling? That question haunts me. It’s like I’m always being compared, always falling short. No matter how hard I trie, it’s never quite right. And it cuts deep, deeper than anyone knows.
I long for a day when I’m not compared to my sibling. When my achievements are celebrated for what they are, not measured against someone else’s. I wanted to be seen, truly seen, for who I am and what I can do. Is that too much to ask?
There are moments when I feel so invisible. Family gatherings, school events—it’s always my sibling who gets the spotlight. I’m there, but not really. It’s like I’m part of the background, blending in, unnoticed. And it hurts, more than words can say.
I carried this pain with me, every single day. It’s a part of who I am now. The second child, always trying, always hoping, always hurting. I want to be enough, but it feels like I never will be.
To all the second children out there, I see you. I feel your pain. We share this struggle, this silent heartache. We are the ones who are always not enough, taken for granted. But we are also strong, resilient, and capable of so much more than they see.
Don’t give up. Your worth isn’t defined by comparisons. You are enough, just as you are. One day, someone will see you for who you truly are and recognize your incredible strength. Until then, hold on to the hope that you are more than enough.
Remember, your pain is real, your struggles are valid, and you deserve to be seen and loved for who you are. You are not alone. We are in this together, and we will find our light, even if it’s just a small star in the night sky. We will shine.
