After reading William Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, I had to write a soliloquy for school. All of Shakespeare’s works are full of page-long monologues and paragraphs of soliloquies. Thankfully, I didn’t have to write in Old English… [For words — lengthy and minute — would in that mechanical alcove tucked concealed in my merry sconce appear rather not, for the speech of which I am not inclined to is elaborate and complex, confusing the place of which thought is inspired, both in talking and writing.] In other words, It’s confusing. Anyway, I decided to write about the sorrow that accompanies the youngest of a family.

I’m recording these events and injustices to do away with any misconceptions you might have concerning last born children. I have the authority to give you a realistic picture of this, for I am the youngest in my family. I am writing this for those who don’t meet the criteria of “last born” or have forgotten the woes that come with the title. “Woes?” you might ask. “Are there really woes that are specific to last born children?” The answer, as you will see in the following paragraphs, is an emphatic yes.

The woes of being the youngest, girl or boy, start at a very young age. (However, since I am a girl, I will refer to the youngest in feminine form.) For me, these sorrows were present ever since I can remember. The first, and most common, anguish for a last born is the feeling that she is dumb. This feeling feels valid for the youngest because surrounding her are older children capable of much more than she is. The older children are more creative, they get jokes, they have more knowledge in school, and the list goes on and on. In my own life I remember making a card for someone’s birthday and feeling quite proud of it until I saw my older siblings’ cards. Compared to their cards, mine was fit for the garbage, and I knew it, which leads me quite nicely to the second tragedy of youngsters.

Parents and other adults, too, see the ugly little kid cards and the beautiful older kid ones and do a most offensive thing. What do they do? While in their harmless attempts to lift the spirits of the littlest, they tell her that her card is beautiful, that she did a wonderful job. In essence, they lie. This praise, though done with no ill intentions, is seen by the littlest for what it truly is — deceit. The last born knows her cards are miserable and that she is being lied to in order to make her feel better; however, the result is quite the opposite of the desired effect. The last born becomes sadder that the adults try to baby her and that the adults think she is ignorant enough not to see past their charade of smiles. The youngster hides what she knows of this common lie, and lets the adults believe that their congratulations have worked and that she is happy with the outcome of her card, though this is never really true.

Though the last born is demeaned by false consolation, the same amount of maturity, as is shown by the older siblings, is expected of her! Adults can hardly be blamed for this fault, though it is theirs. Parents are spoiled by the recently acquired maturity of their older children, so when another kid comes along, and obviously isn’t as grown up as the older children, parents tend to get annoyed. Parents’ patience wears thin. When they can’t contain their frustration any longer, they let all the heat out on the youngest, and the common phrase “why can’t you just grow up?” is born. It is necessary to note that the oldest is NOT more mature than the youngest when the oldest was the age of the younger, or that the youngest is less mature than the oldest for the respective age. Rather, with the greater life experience, the older has gained more maturity than the youngest.

As I have stated, the youngest doesn’t have as much life experience or knowledge as her older siblings, and, as a result of this, she is excluded from many a conversation. I remember sitting around for hours while my parents, siblings and company would talk and talk and talk about things I couldn’t understand. I would try to listen, but after having no luck at all in trying to figure out what they were talking about, I would just quit. This, however boring, did give me quite a lot of patience that I still have to express every once in a while when I still don’t understand some conversation. This exclusion isn’t confined just to conversations but also in things like jokes. I never ever could get a joke, much less retell it. Everybody would be laughing and laughing, and I would just be sitting there lost. Needless to say, it was frustrating, but not nearly as frustrating as the most common and offensive misconception of all.

What is the most offensive? Why it is the misconception that the youngest is just like the older children. Let me further explain this with an example. My older sister sews. She sews rather well and wears her garments about. When people are talking about my sister’s sewing skills, they always without a doubt ask me, “Do you sew, too?” The answer to that question, as you might have guessed, is no. The same scenario happens again with other topics: “Oh, do you play the cello like your sister?” “Your sister likes this, so you must, too!” and so on and so forth. After years of questions and statements and assumptions like these, one of two things happen. The first is that the youngest will try to live up to her older siblings’ standards, trying to be just like them, and the other is complete rebellion. I, myself, have done both of these. At first, I tried cello, I tried to sew, to be like my sister, but after a while it became cumbersome. So I took the other extreme. I refused to do anything my sister did. I became quite bitter! Unfortunately for me, my sister is a very diverse person who tries many different things, and trying to avoid all of them was quite difficult. And this leads me to another struggle of the youngest that goes hand in hand with the one just stated.

Individuality. It is so hard to be an individual with older siblings. Now, this wouldn’t be so hard if the youngest was in a different school than the older children, but in my house, we were homeschooled. Don’t get me wrong. I loved and still do love homeschooling. However, it proved hard not doing anything like my older siblings when I was around them 24-7. In situations like this, the youngest, in a desperate attempt to be an individual, thinks of the most outlandish things to do say and wear. The youngest thinks of a way to express herself in a queer, loud way. For me this was true. I decided to wear eccentric clothes, things my sister would never wear. I took up singing, and I would sing loudly throughout the house proclaiming my presence. Writing became my favorite subject because I could voice my opinions.  I also started acting and began making friends that my family didn’t know. All of this helped me to feel more independent and different. Speaking of friends, that is the last woe of a last born.

Friends, it’s true, are a cause of sorrow to a last born. Not because they are mean friends, or a bad example for the youngest, but because they are old. It is a fact that last born children make older friends. Most of the time, the age difference is only a year of two, but in extreme cases the years extend to four or five. This is true even in my life. When I was not even a freshman in high school, I was making friends with seniors. These were all good friends to me, but because I was so much younger, I got frustrated when I couldn’t do what they could. For instance, I can’t drive, and most of my friends can. I’m not allowed to wear make-up, and my friends can. I can’t see all the movies they are allowed to see. My friends can go to prom; I can’t. This caused me to want to be older even more, and the things that I could control, like wearing make-up, I wanted. However, I have a rather strict mother, and when I would complain that I couldn’t do this, or that all my friends could do that, she would get angry. Unfortunately for both of us, I am as stubborn as a mule and wouldn’t cave. This caused friction between us. I understand the importance of boundaries, but it is hard to accept them when the people I am closest to, friends and family, don’t have the same restrictions as I.

This concludes the plight of the youngest. As you can see, there are many woes the youngest has to endure that start at birth and remain for quite a while. I hope this paper will deter you from complaining that the youngest has an easy life, and, even if you are not thoroughly convinced, perhaps you will respect the children of this world that were most unfortunate to be born last.