“I wish”: the confessions of a firstborn

Hey hey hey everyone! I hope all is well! This is going to be a short one so I thoroughly hope you enjoy. This particular post is a poem I wrote about based on what it sometimes feels to be as a firstborn child! CALLING ALL FIRSTBORNS HERE! Gather round brothers and sisters. I speak forus all who can relate.

So last month, I posted a video version of this poem on TikTok. However, that spoken word poem and this one are a smidge different but to a small extent.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this written version!

I wish I could tell you that being the firstborn is a privilege, a crown of glory to wear with pride. But in the quiet moments when the weight of the world settles on my shoulders, I find myself longing for a different story, one where the burden isn’t mine to bear alone.

In the archives of my existence, penned in the ink of responsibilities and expectations, there lies a narrative of frustration, a story of a heart yearning for understanding. I am the architect of my own cage, fashioned by the hands of duty and sometimes, I wish I could escape the confines of being the perpetual role model.

There are days when my laughter echoes bounce off the walls of loneliness, as I yearn to constantly share the load with an older sibling who understands the rhythm of responsibility and the delicate balance of expectations. Instead, I navigate this particular maze of life alone, a solitary figure in the grand play of existence.

It’s not that I desire to be mean or selfish, but a fleeting wish whispers in the corridors of my mind. A wish to taste the freedom of carelessness, to dance on the edge of chance without the heavy cloak of consequence draped over my shoulders. Oh, how liberating it must be to live life by the roll of the dice, rather than the meticulous planning of a responsible heart.

I write to you not as a lamentation but as a confession. In the quiet corners of my soul, I hunger for the luxury of not caring, for a momentary respite from the ceaseless waves of responsibility crashing upon my shores. Sometimes, I wish I could shatter the expectations, break free from the mould and be the architect of my own destiny.

Yet, as I pen down these words, I realize that my wishes are but whispers in the wind, lost to the vast expanse of time. And so, I continue to carry the weight, sometimes with a little resentment but also with a silent acceptance, knowing that the path I tread is what God knew I was destined to walk.