Does birth order actually mold an individual’s personality or is all the hype simply a grand way of stereotyping? Does the sex of children have more to do with personality than where they are in the pecking order? What about only children? Is it nature or nurture or both that ultimately makes us who we are?
I was a first born child. My mother ecstatically and carefully recorded every milestone of my infancy in a baby book filled with photographs and intricate details of my life. She saved birthday cards from my first three years and made baby blankets by hand to swaddle me. She was quite obviously determined to be a fabulous mom and the evidence that she was totally enthralled with her role is found in that carefully crafted book and the detailed stories that she told over and over.
When my brother was born three years later the focus of her attention widened. She did not neglect me but she had to set me on a more independent course because my brother was often quite sick, She spent hours nursing him back to health. She had far less time to dote on me even though she did her best to continue sending me signs that she loved me very much. I suppose that I actually enjoyed the freedom that came with having a new brother and even though no words were spoken I sensed that my parents expected me to be more responsible than I had previously been.
When I was five years old my youngest brother was born. With that event my mother’s time and duties were stretched. She purchased a baby book for him but simply tossed photos the pages to be arranged and narrated at a later date that never seemed to come. She certainly loved each of us to the fullest, but I sensed that I had been the recipient of the most focused amount of her adoration simply by being born first. I suppose that experience left a mark on me of some kind but she ferociously doted on each of us in her own way.
I can’t say that I was a particularly sharing and caring sibling until after my father died. In fact I lived in a kind of bubble of egoism in which my brothers existed but received little of my notice. As the only girl I receive a different kind of attention from my parents that I greatly enjoyed. As fate would have it my father just happened to speak of my lackadaisical tendencies shortly before his death. He urged me to be better, so when he was gone I took it upon my self to be a kind of adjunct parent to my brothers and a helpmate to my mother.
I don’t think that birth order had as much to do with my becoming hyper-dutiful as much as the new circumstances of my life. An inner voice seemed to command me to rise to the occasions when my mother and brothers needed my help. Somehow being responsible became second nature to me. My brothers eventually carried their fair share of keeping our family intact as they grew old enough to be of assistance. Nonetheless we each developed our own personalities that might be described as fitting the stereotypes of birth order theories.
I have been the serious and often anxious planner. My middle brother is easy going and adaptive. The youngest brother is gregarious, jovial and always ready to take risks. I see a bit of both my father and my mother in each of us. I suspect that nature has much to do with how we each became but nurture and our shared experiences no doubt mattered more.
I never felt the resentment of the so called eldest daughter syndrome. I have often longed for a sister but my brothers are wonderful and loving even as their maleness sometimes does not truly understand my feelings. Mine are uniquely female experiences that only another woman truly comprehends. Nonetheless my brothers have partnered with me over the years in sharing all of the family joys and disappointments and tragedies. I would never have been able to care for our mother all alone during her bouts with mental illness. We were a team that worked as a unit and for that I will always be grateful.
I would posit that my experience disproves the idea that birth order somehow defines us for life. Perhaps having a single parent eliminated all of the familial stereotypes or maybe both of my parents were ahead of the times in seeing me and my brothers as equals. Whatever shaped us turned out to be quite wonderful.
I treasure my brothers and our partnership. I revel in our differences and the characteristics that we each bring to the table. There is joy in our solidarity and also in our perfect mix of personalities. We admire and love each other just as we are, birth order or not.
All It Takes Is A Little Love 