vicswritingblog

[vicswritingblog]

the middle child

Being the middle child is definitely not the easiest thing in the world. Social media widely talks about being the oldest and the effects of being the firstborn, but I rarely see any posts on what it means to be the middle child. Every family is different, but this is my experience.

Being the middle child means being overshadowed by your older sibling and your youngest sibling. My older sister and I have a one year age gap, which makes us closer than our youngest sister who is 6 years younger than me. I was the youngest for 6 years of my life, right before my academic life started.

I think that’s where things really went downhill from there. My sister and I always went to the same schools and my parents always expected me to do the same things she did. 

Jie joined the choir as her CCA? You’re going to do that too. 

Jie got all As for her exams, why can you do that too? 

Jie is such a good girl. Why can’t you be like her too?

For the longest time, I never felt like I was good enough. It was something I struggled with mentally when I was growing up but never told anyone about. When I was younger, my parents would often say that they always knew that I was brighter than my older sister but I never showed it academically. 

And it’s true. I used my intellect elsewhere, like how to rebel against my parents. Academically, I didn’t put in my 100% into studying and always had mediocre results. Instead of putting effort into my studies, I thought of how I could do things behind my parents’ backs. 

Phone confiscated? No worries, I can always find another one to use. 

I can’t go out? It’s okay, I’ll lie to them about where I am. 

My parents were very strict about going out after school, but I didn’t care anyway. They tried their best to give me all the best tuition that they could afford and even tried to teach me. But of course, none of those things really helped me for the majority of my academic life.

When I went to secondary school, I tried out for choir as my CCA because my older sister was there too. I failed the audition and went to another CCA instead. That was the first time I did something differently from my older sister, and my parents didn’t seem to mind. As usual, my grades in secondary 1 were mediocre. But this changed once I started to go to a very expensive tuition centre. When I realised that I was capable of producing good results if I put my mind to it, I started to put in effort into studying. Morale was high and I did well in secondary 2, eventually going into secondary 3 with the subjects I wanted to study.

At 15, my parents gradually stopped comparing my older sister and I. I realised the change when I started to produce better results, and even started doing better than my sister. By the end of secondary school, I was only one point ahead of her in our O'Level results but I still bragged about it. But then, came poly.

I always knew I couldn’t match up with my older sister. Poly really showed me how. We went to two different courses but both studied media; my course was more niche towards writing while hers was arguably one of the best communication courses in Singapore. I felt insecure about my course because mine was not as reputable as hers, but my parents didn’t really say much in the beginning. 

I often felt that my older sister was always looking down on me because she could excel in so many areas that I was lacking. She’s an all rounder while I’m only good in one area, which makes me very insecure about everything I do. While I do acknowledge that she does help me when I need it, living in her shadow has made me a very anxious adult. And that sucks. 

Gradually, my parents started to compare us again. This time about our courses, what we studied, and our GPA. When I went to my poly course, I knew what I signed up for, but once again felt that I was lagging behind while she was pushing ahead.

My mother would always assure me that she was never comparing us, but deep down I knew it was a lie. Or perhaps that was what I was conditioned to believe in. My mother is someone who’s quite bad at words, so I give her the benefit of doubt sometimes. But when you spend half your lifetime growing in the shadow of your older sibling, it’s hard to give that benefit of doubt.

Then came university. In an Asian household like mine, going to university was one of the most important things we had to do. I didn’t do well in poly, so I wasn’t expecting to enter university. However, by some miracle and all my lucky stars, I managed to get into the course that I wanted since I was in poly. My mother was overjoyed that I got into university, and I felt that was the day I made her genuinely proud for the first time.

I’m a humanities major now while my sister just graduated with a degree in communications. The comparisons haven't stopped.

My mother often asks me why my skill sets aren’t like my sister’s. I’ve experienced years of built-up frustration about being compared to my older sister, and it still hasn’t stopped even as I become a full-grown adult. This got progressively worse when my sister started to look for her first full-time job before graduation. She had gotten offers with impressive salaries, a range I could only dream of with my current diploma and degree. I always knew that I signed up for this path the day I entered university. While comparing our potential futures, my mother expressed that she was only worried for me because she didn’t want me to be sad if I could not get a salary range like hers.

It’s difficult to not feel inferior to my older sister after what she has accomplished in her life. I will and have always been living in her shadow for the majority of my life, and it sucks that it has defined how I view myself. Where is my younger sister in all this? Living her best life because we paved the way for her. Being the youngest really has its perks. 

The worst thing about this isn’t the lifetime of comparisons to my older sister. 

Instead, it’s that I never learned how to put myself first. I never knew what it felt like to be taken care of because I was always taking care of other people. I find myself craving the affection and validation from strangers or peers because I did not get enough from my own family.

I don’t hate my older sister and my parents. I love them more than anything even if I don’t express it often. But I wish that I had the guidance and support that I needed when I was younger. I don’t blame them entirely for how I view myself now, but I think that played a role in my self-confidence.

Again, not every middle child grows up to be an independent girl with low self-esteem like me.

So to all the middle children who can sympathise with me, I want you to know that you are good enough. You have your own life path and your older sibling should not dictate what you should or should not be doing.

You deserve to be taken care of the way you take care of the people around you. Your feelings are valid. You are loved by everyone around you.

You are enough.

[vicswritingblog]

Girls School Problems

My first crush was a boy I met in my church class; his name was Adrian. We were in the same cell group.

Sunday mornings meant long bus rides to church and sitting at the right side of the class. Boys and girls never sat together, so there was a huge gap between the genders like my catechist was crossing the red sea.

I only had a handful of girl friends in the class and never mixed with the boys. You’d think that in a class of 80, I could have at least 10 friends. I was very wrong. The girls from the other schools were always cold and judgemental – I could always feel them staring a hole into my back whenever I sat in the front. Or maybe that was just the beginning of my social anxiety.

“Eh, how is it going with Adrian?” My best friend, Jamie, nudged me in the side. I met her at church class too, but she was quite different from the other girls despite being in the same school as them. She talked to me first and we clicked instantly. We’ve been inseparable ever since.

“We texted a bit,” I whispered as I kept my voice low. “He wished me happy birthday and told me to get well soon.”

The catechist was going on about something regarding that week’s bible reading, but I wasn’t paying attention. Clearly.

“Why don’t you talk to him later when we break out into groups? He keeps looking at you, you know.”

I looked at Jamie in disbelief. Me? Talking to Adrian alone in real life? No way. I shook my head lightly and rolled my eyes.

“I think I’ll burst into flames if I do.”

She stifled a laugh and patted my back. The lights came back on again, signalling that it was time for us to split up into our cell groups. Everyone started to pack up and filed out, leaving my cell group behind to use the room. My group had 12 people, 6 boys and 6 girls.

We gathered in the centre of the class and sat in a circle but there was still a division between the genders. The girls sat in one half while the boys sat in the other. To link both sides of the circle together, our facilitators sat in between the last girl and boy at each end.

While settling down, I was so engrossed with talking to Jamie about our favourite band that I failed to notice that Adrian was sitting directly across from me. When I looked up, his eyes met mine immediately. I shifted my gaze quickly.

I couldn’t look at him or talk to him in real life. I didn’t know how to act around boys. The last time I had an actual conversation with any boy that wasn’t my father, was probably in kindergarten. We were paired with the opposite gender based on our heights, so I always had to hold hands and sit with a boy in class.

That was also the last time I was ever in a co-ed school. Since I was enrolled in an all-girls primary school and then an all-girls secondary school, my interactions with boys were limited. I only met a couple at church and tuition classes for a few hours every week.

The discussion went on as per usual with the facilitators asking and answering the questions while the rest of us continued to talk amongst ourselves or used our phones. We finished our session before the other groups returned, so the facilitators gave us a 20-minute break.

Jamie quickly dragged me up to go for a walk to stretch our legs. Before we left the room, I got a message from Adrian.

Want to go for lunch later?

I stared at the message and wondered how I could reply. Jamie hovered over my shoulder to read it, immediately shaking me hard with a squeal.

“OMG, He asked you out. What are you going to do? You should go! Get to know him more and talk to him. It’s so obvious that he’s interested in you. He texts you literally every day. I don’t think any other guy would do that,” Jamie whispered excitedly as we walked down the steps.

“And besides, his school is known to date girls from your school too. You two would be a match made in the East.”

I snorted. Right. A clichéd romance between a student from an all-boys school and a student from an all-girls school. Who said romance was dead? I picked up my phone and typed in a reply hesitantly.

Sorry, my sister is waiting for me to go home with her. Maybe another time?

That was half a truth and half a lie. Technically, it was true that my sister was waiting for me to go back but she would definitely be more than willing to go home alone if the situation arose. Jamie only sighed.

“Gen, when are you going to talk to him properly? You’re missing out big time.”

“I don’t know la, I just can’t do it now,” I shrugged as I slid my phone back into my pocket. Talking on text was enough for me since I didn’t have to face him or look him in the eyes.

We made it back to class before the break ended and sat at the back this time. When everyone else returned, the classroom became noisy and crowded until the catechist hushed us.

“To wrap up today’s class, here’s a quote I’ll leave you guys with: Love is patient, love is kind. Have a good day ahead, folks!”

My catechist was an odd guy. Did he happen to overhear my conversation with Jamie? I shrugged it off as a coincidence and laughed. Jamie and I were one of the first few to leave the room, feeling happy and free that we had the rest of the day to laze around. I spot my sister at the gate waiting for me and bid Jamie goodbye.

Together, we made our way to the bus stop opposite the church. I hated Bus 14 since it always took forever to come.

On this day, however, it felt like it took an entire lifetime. I scrolled through my Twitter account while my sister kept a lookout for the bus. All was well, until I felt a pat on my head.

I looked up only to find Adrian laughing at me.

“See you,” He smiled, giving me a wave before walking off with his friends. My jaw dropped internally and my sister gave me a questioning look. At that moment, I wished the ground would swallow me whole.

I opened my messaging app and stared at my chat with Adrian, wanting to type something to start another conversation. My mind went blank.

Wow, I really didn’t know how to interact with boys.

[vicswritingblog]

my decade with exo

Going to EXO-SC’s fancon in Singapore was the most spontaneous thing I did recently, and I have no regrets. Being in the silver ocean made me feel like I was home again. That feeling of familiarity and being surrounded by other people who loved them as much as I did made my heart burst with joy.

They’ve been my constants for the past decade, even if I’m not as hardcore as I was back then. I still listen to their music from time to time, just so that I can feel like a teenager again.

EXO is nostalgic to me. Their music still brings me the same comfort as it did in the past.

It brings back memories of old friends, whether good or bad; it brings back memories of things I’ve overcome in my life; it brings back memories of my successes and my failures; it brings me back to the past.

Now you’re probably wondering, why do you want to stay in the past? Well, I’m a cancer that also loves to get sentimental over things. So, thinking about the past is my favourite past time.

Isn’t it crazy how K-pop can do this for a person?

I have so many memories linked with EXO. They’ve been with me even when I was at my worst. Each time I think of a memory, it feels like it just happened yesterday. Wounds still fresh, successes still being celebrated — I’m a strong believer that music does have the power to bring you back to the past.

I associate the members with my friends, whether current or past, and I associate songs with even the most mundane periods in my life. One example that comes to mind is Monster. I can still remember sitting in the school canteen during lunch time and excitedly looking through the teaser photos that dropped while I was having class.

Even while reminiscing this moment, it still feels like it happened yesterday. But it's been 7 years since then.

They’ve become such an integral part of my life that I’ll carry these feelings with me for the rest of my life.

EXO is my healing. They’re always a source of comfort for me. Going back to their music makes it feel like everything is okay again. I can safely say that I’ve never and will never regret my decision to learn about them.

I hope people have their comfort music too. Even if it seems like a silly idea to some other people, or even if you get questions like, “they don’t even know you so why are you so attached to them?”

It’s because they’re there for us when nobody else is.

Sure, family and friends are forever, but so are the songs that my favourite artists put out.

Music heals me. Music makes me drown out all the worries that I have and music makes me celebrate my successes harder.

Don’t be afraid to be a fangirl.

These have been the best years of my life and I would never trade my experiences for anything in this world. Even when I get older and have my own children, I’ll look back at these memories fondly.

EXO is my forever group.