Least Favorite Only Child

 Funny title huh?!?  You are probably thinking how could I be my moms least favorite only child. I never thought about it until I got older. Even though I felt it my whole life. I was her only child, but I was never her favorite. 

Growing up I always hear about my cousin Jay (name changed).  He was the first nephew for my mom. He was the first person my mom loved and spoiled like crazy. Along came other nieces and nephews. She always loved Jay more. He was the first. I was reminded all the time. He was the first. 

Then I came along. I was her miracle child. The one she prayed for. The one she loved to the core. So, she told me. Yet, no matter what I did, I felt her love was conditional. I was reminded all the time “you are my miracle baby.”  Like that was supposed to hold weight and make it better. 

As we all got older. Jay came around the house more and more. She hung out with him. They played video games. Stayed up all night and talked and did all sorts of things. That left me, alone. It was always about Jay. I felt her love for him was unconditional. I became jealous of their relationship. Once again I was told, Jay was the first. I was prayed for and that is what made me special. 

Years went on. Her relationship with Jay never really changed. Jay loved her more than anything. She loved him just the same. A love I only could dream of. Then came my daughter. Her love changed for me again. Her love for my daughter grew tremendously. She was the first grandchild of my mom. My daughter became spoiled. 

As years went by, I became jealous of my child. Stupid I know.  No matter what I did or asked for.  My daughter got better and bigger. It seemed like I no longer mattered. Yet, I was told, “I’m the miracle child.” No matter how many times I heard that. The less I felt like I mattered. Her love became more and more conditional towards me. 

Her love for Jay and my daughter always seems to grow. The love for me was less and less. No matter what I did. No matter how hard I tried. I never felt like she was proud of me. Never really loved me. Even though she said she did. I felt like it was conditional. Like I had to earn her love. I had to do something special to earn it. 

By the time her life was nearing the end. I told her I felt like I Jay and my daughter were her favorites. I was not on that list. She assured me again, that wasn’t true. Yet, in the same chat, I was made to feel small. Made to feel like I didn’t matter. I was told I didn’t care about her. Even though I had busted my butt day in and day out on the phone. Trying to keep her alive. 

After she passed I told Jay that he was her favorite. He reminded she did love me in her own way. I know she did. I was never her favorite. Even my daughter knew I wasn’t. She saw how I was treated. Saw that I was the least favorite only child. 

My mom has been gone for almost 8 months. It still hurts to know I wasn’t her favourite. She valued others more than me. As my birthday nears, I feel it even more right now. Remembering all the things I asked for. I didn’t get it because the favorites got the better items instead. I was told things were too much. Despite her spending double that on my daughter. 

It’s hard for me this year to remember not everyone is like that. I am someone’s favorite. I just don’t know what it is like. How to respond to something positive. Especially unconditional love.