a declaration of an unconventional eldest daughter
just vibes #2, a poem
I am an eldest daughter but I have always been soft
I was never the strong one
not the rock of my family nor the one you can lean on
I only started being protective in recent years
it hurts to admit my own vanity, even if it rings true
I used to think I was so strong, turns out I was just pliable
I have never known how to fight back only ever to stay silent
never known how to not want every eye on the room to gaze in wonder
never known how to not be selfish when it came to my desires
I am reliable for a few select things,
like holding secrets and upholding the family name
and being perfection so people cannot have anything to say
I only ever cared about what people will think
and who they will see
and if I could get them to love me
I am spoiled and I am sensitive
my eyes a fountain of salt
my hands eternally reaching out
when I learned I was weak
my greedy mouth could not help
but beg to be helped
beg to stay soft
beg to be young
I am a soft girl in a world full of edges
maybe that’s why I got so good at acting like a buffer
Something to blunt the pain as long as I can take it
I don’t think I could ever take it.
I am a frail girl with a body full of soft parts
My flesh something warm to grab unto
until handprint bruises paint my hips
I say frail but never small. No one wants to squeeze someone small.
Smallness demands to be held.
Smallness demands that you care.
Smallness demands softness.
I am not small.
If you’re curious about the image on this piece you can read about it here.
I have a weird relationship with the eldest daughter stereotype and all the ways I fit into the mold and all the ways I am either too much or not enough. If you too are an unconventional eldest daughter, we may not be stereotypes but our experiences cannot fit into one conveniently labeled box.