Sharing is Caring 

Being the oldest sister is one of the hardest jobs in the world. Being the oldest sister with twin younger brothers is even harder. Before my brothers were born it was just me. I got all the toys, snacks, everything, even my parents, all to myself. All the attention was on me. Family gatherings, parties, etc. Having twin brothers is like chaos twenty four-seven but take that time two. Suddenly there is more laundry to do. More toys to clean up. More dishes to be cleaned. More shoes on the shoes shelf. Too much to the point I thought the shelf was going to explode and shoes would fly everywhere. There’s more people in family photos. The hallway is crowded with more pictures. When my brothers were born I had to share everything with them. Not just with one of them but two! Sharing is always caring until it’s my favorite food. Or when we have to take turns sitting in the front seat. Or when we would all have to agree on a movie to watch for family movie night. Sharing is never fun when it comes to something we like. As frustrating as it can be sometimes, I love my brothers more than anyone in this whole world. Although we’re always mean to our siblings, one thing we all share among each other is love and care for one another. 

Boyfriend 

My parents were never really supported with the idea of me being in a relationship. I always get the big girls talk about boys from my mom. When she found out I had a boyfriend, she was worried to death. Growing up my mom never really experienced affection from anyone at all. It is also a part of my family to not show affection or at least make it obvious. That’s why all the little things he did worried her. The looks my mom would give me if he sits too close at the dining table. When he held my hand. Or when he tried to pay for my things. I would come home with presents and a bouquet of flowers in my hand smiling and my mom would immediately ask why I asked him to do such things. Sure, my mom might not understand the feeling of being a teenager being in love and experiencing such feelings. She said she will never understand but at the end of the day it was the things he did for me that made me feel so loved and appreciated. 

Cookies

In another universe I am perfect. I wish I could satisfy everyone all at once. I want to be the daughter my mom always dreamed of. I want to be the perfect student. I want to be a friend who everyone wants to be around. I want to be perfect. I spend all my time trying to satisfy what my mom wants. Now I realize I am now losing myself in the process. I barely talk to friends anymore. I spend most of my time trying to catch up on sleep or homework. Less free time for myself. I’m bored of the things I used to like to do so much. Suddenly everything is about grades, college, school, work, more school, and more work. Sometimes I feel like the bad cookie that no one wants. The one with less chocolate chips than the others. I can’t help but feel like the cookie that everyone says they like but end up sitting in the cabinet for so long you just throw it out eventually. No matter what I do I can’t help but compare the chocolate chip in my cookies to my friends or classmates. I’m constantly thinking of ways to be the cookie that everyone wants. Or at least the cookie that my mom would want to pick. Eventually at one point I will not be the same cookie anymore. I’m burnt out and am losing what makes me myself and I don’t know how to get back to where I was before.