For 49-year-old Natasha Harding, the “middle child syndrome” definitely exists. She talks about her experiences with an older and a younger sibling – and how this affects her as an adult.
Recently, while having a family dinner with my siblings at a restaurant, I asked my older sister about her vacation plans and then listened intently as my younger brother continued to prattle on about his latest business venture and its success.
By the time I started speaking, the food had already arrived and no one seemed interested in what I had to say. I didn’t take it personally though, because over the years I’ve learned to accept being the middle child of the family and all that comes with it. They say middle children are independent, rebellious and good negotiators. I think it’s safe to say I fit all of those criteria.
My sister Amanda is four years older than me and was a real mommy’s girl growing up. She was incredibly smart and had tons of extracurricular activities to keep her busy, and my mother’s attention was completely focused on her. My brother Jason is 18 months younger and as the baby of the family – and most importantly, the only boy – he was both parents’ golden child. I often felt like a spare part, so I tried very hard to get the attention of, well, everyone.
(Photo credit: Natasha Harding)
I often felt like a spare part and tried very hard to attract attention
My brother (Boy, as I called him) hardly spoke before he was four because I did enough talking for both of us and made all the decisions together. If he was invited to a birthday party, I made sure I was on the guest list, and when I was there, I dictated what games to play and when.
Like many middle children, I was spirited and loved nothing more than going on adventures. Although Boy loved going with me, I was always the one in trouble when things went wrong. It was always easier to blame me since I was older than him and should know better!
(Photo credit: Natasha Harding)
Even as an adult, I work harder than most to impress and make a good impression
I was very independent and would go shopping alone from a young age. I didn’t mind coming home with a plastic bag full of essentials. My sister was always “too busy” to go for a quick grocery run and Boy was too small – so the one in the middle had to run the errands. Instead of questioning my mother’s laid-back parenting style or complaining that it was unfair, I enjoyed being useful and my independence made me incredibly confident and outgoing.
I loved being outside, and when I wasn’t with my brother, I played with friends all day. Of course, my parents loved us all equally, but I sometimes felt “invisible,” so I often visited my grandparents in Surrey. While I was there, I enjoyed the undivided attention and being an only child – and devoured my grandmother’s little treats, too.
As a teenager, I became a bit of a show-off, driven by my desire to attract more attention. I loved the attention of the boys in our neighborhood. I loved making them laugh – and when they did tricks on their bikes, I joined in because I wanted to be liked so badly.
Even as an adult, I try harder than most to impress and make a good impression. Mom apologized to me as an adult and admitted that she was stricter with me – which she put down to me being the more rebellious of the two. And I bear no grudges at all, because she’s right – I was the bossier, braver, louder, and more feisty of the three of us. But I was sandwiched between two wonderful siblings, so I had to find a way to grab some of the attention. Although being the middle child wasn’t always easy, I think it made me who I am today, and I wouldn’t change my position in the family for the world.
This post was originally published in August 2024 in Woman’s Own, also owned by Future Publishing.
