Wednesday, 30 December 2015

On Being the Least Favorite Child



 

 

I can work very well on my own and never succumb to peer pressure because, since childhood I’ve always felt a little different, odd even, there was always something remotely hostile about my being.

I was the child who opened my mother’s womb and my birth was greeted with much joy, things changed for my mother and my father was exhilarated. I was the princess. That is until three short years later when my sister was born.

My mum often said there was something significant about her birth, she was born the same day her mother died and looked exactly like her mother hence, she was fondly called ‘mama’ by my mother.

I on the other hand, resembled my father from his skin tone to his moods. I was a quiet sensitive child, often keeping to myself as opposed to my radiant, friendly, busy body sister. She no doubt was a pretty child, always praised by all, sought out by brides and grooms across the world to be used as their little bride or flower girl. Me? Well I was never invited not once not even by a blind person.

I grew up with one conviction. I was ugly and would never be loved (and probably even adopted) my self-esteem was at an all-time low. I still remember clearly those that were nice to me because, I can assure you they were few. Not that these people (actually my family) were horrible or anything I was simply overshadowed period.

I was a voracious reader with an incredible imagination, it provided an escape to the almost pitiable state I was in. Due to my nonstop reading, I developed an eye defect called myopia which led me to have to use really ugly glasses. This didn’t help matters, I ended up being a skinny, gawky, teenager with bad acne and bottle lens glasses who swayed while walking. That sealed the no friends and definitely no boyfriends deal. It was hard to believe I was related to the almost ‘half caste’ beauty that was my sister.

I was suicidal for a very long time and when I went to my mother for help, her reply showed that she either didn’t take me seriously, didn’t know how to handle the situation, or worse didn’t care. I had to give up the suicide business when the last one failed. I had taken an overdose of sleeping pills (at least 10 pills) but when I miraculously awoke I knew then and there that God wasn’t giving up on me yet. I was only seventeen.

God has a way of compensating people. He blessed me with brains, I was a fast learner an excellent reader and decent writer. I excelled in school despite my troubles and I was the best graduating Arts and Humanities student in my set. I went on to study law at a prestigious University and am now a Barrister.

Today, people tell me I am beautiful I accept the compliment gracefully I can never be vain (seventeen years of constantly being called ugly will teach you that). I am married to a most amazing man who tells me how wonderful I am every day he is also one of the big players in real estate in the country having several estates in Abuja, Lagos and Port Harcourt. I am a senior partner at a firm that pays six figure salaries to NYSC corpers (yes there are law firms like this in Nigeria you need to go out more).

I am now pregnant with a baby girl. I have forgiven past wrongs and have moved on in life with enough love to give mostly to my daughter whom I will protect from the evils of this world. Everyone has a path to choose, either to wallow in self-pity or to take control of life. I have chosen mine what’s yours?

 

True Life story From Anonymous

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

4 comments:

Susi said...

Your story is mine, too. My deepest sympathy.

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