They say that being the youngest is a good thing. They say that if you're the youngest, you're always spoiled. You're always the one who has the attention of your parents and even your other family members, but unfortunately, not every youngest receives that kind of attention.
I am the youngest among my siblings, yet I was the unseen one, I was the invisible, I was the one who always had to understand because, unfortunately, I'm the youngest, I was the one who was ignored and neglected by my parents. I was not spoiled; I'm the most pressured; I'm the one who has to give away for my siblings. It’s always been me. I have never felt like the favorite.
I am the youngest, yet I never had my parents attend my recognition or graduation day. I never had the chance to hear them say that they're proud of me. It has always been my elder siblings my parents prioritize.
My partner had gone to their recognition and graduation day. They give my sisters the things they want—no matter what it is which never happened to me. If one of my sisters is sick, they'll take a break from work to take care of them, but when I'm sick, I must take care of myself alone in my cold room.
I vividly remember when I was in my first year of high school, during the recognition ceremony, none of you weren't present at that time while all of my friends had their parents. The memory is etched in my mind, a stark reminder of how often I was made to feel less important. It wasn't just about material things; it was about the lack of emotional support, and the absence of a reassuring presence when I needed it most. That feeling of being alone, of being overlooked, remains a painful part of my past.
I’ve heard my parents tell my sisters that whatever grades they receive, it’s okay because they tried their best, while I get scolded for not acing every subject.
It's a daily occurrence in my life that I can't help but compare myself to my sisters. I often wonder why I don’t receive the same treatment.
The constant comparison to my sisters chipped away at my self-esteem. I felt like I was constantly falling short, no matter how hard I tried. The lack of parental support during important moments in my life—like my graduation—left a gaping hole of validation. The feeling of being invisible, of my accomplishments being unacknowledged, created a deep sense of loneliness and insecurity that continues to hurt me today.
Mom, Dad. Am I not your daughter too? Why do you have to make me feel shit every single time? Why do you treat me differently from them? Why don't I feel any ounce of love and care from you?
Part of me wants to believe this was a misunderstanding, a series of unfortunate events rather than a deliberate pattern of neglect. But the consistent nature of the diverse treatment makes it hard to ignore the underlying message: I wasn't as loved, as valued, or as important as my sisters. This internal conflict—between wanting to believe in their love and accepting the reality of my experience—is one of the most difficult aspects of this situation.
Will I ever be spoiled, loved, and cared for by both of you? Will I? If yes, when? Mom and Dad, please tell your babies that I'm your baby too.
If you’ve experienced similar feelings of neglect or favoritism, know that you are not alone. Your feelings are valid, and your experience deserves to be acknowledged. Share your story, find support groups, or seek professional help if needed. Healing from these wounds takes time and effort, but it is possible to cultivate self-love and build healthy relationships, even when those closest to you haven’t fully understood or met your needs. Let’s break the silence and create a space where our experiences are validated and understood. Sending warm hugs to all!
