I never paid much attention to the significance of birth order, but I recently learned it influences our whole lives. I knew I was a middle child but didn’t realize that middlers have a unique set of characteristics — some of which are very positive.
For example, we tend to be fearless. When I was a private detective, I became accustomed to facing danger on a regular basis. Today, the scariest person I have to face is my accountant. We’re risk-takers. When we were kids, we’d be the first to jump off the garage roof with an umbrella. We’re edgy rebels and act as agents of change — as in my mother’s warning, “You better change that tone of voice.”
We were so attention-starved, we learned to stand out by becoming the “class clown.” We were labeled “troublemakers.” But because we always had to share a bedroom and were often stuck in the middle of the backseat, we needed to assert ourselves.
I paid the price for my rebellious ways. When it came to fighting with my older siblings, I had zero wins. I kept fighting anyway because we middle children are seekers of justice — as in, “Why do the older kids get to stay up and I have to go to bed?” As crusaders for personal and social fairness, it’s no surprise we make great leaders.
We’re also master negotiators. When we played pick-up games of football, I couldn’t stand the arguments over where to spot the ball. I just wanted to play. So I would place the ball in the middle between where both teams wanted it. The rivals were slightly disappointed with this compromise, but they would stop arguing.
We’re peacemakers because we’re good listeners (thanks to PI work and journalism, I’m a trained listener). And we have the patience to be good mediators. We’re open-minded and non-judgmental, so people feel comfortable confiding in us. We want to make sure everyone’s needs are met. We develop empathy to the extreme.
Sometimes our selflessness hurts. Since we aren’t demanding about our own needs, parents tend to overlook us. We’re like the fly-over part of the family, with parents focusing on their favorites. Older and younger siblings overshadow us. We can spend the rest of our lives trying to catch up.
Despite this mistreatment, we tend to turn out well-adjusted. Don’t ask me how. I mean, many of us are considered the black sheep of the family. When something was broken, we were the usual suspect. We were punished with chores, which freed-up the other siblings to enjoy their lives of leisure and luxury. But not being the center of attention meant we got away with more than our siblings.
Lacking support from home, we became trail-blazers. We were independent from a young age. We were also ambitious, determined to have our own room someday, to wear clothing that still had the tags on it, and to sit shotgun during a family vacation.
Sadly, this fierce fight for our rights takes its toll. We tend to have low self-esteem and suffer from shyness. Being somewhat invisible, I was known for making mysterious exits from family parties. I was just trying to find my own space, where there was peace and quiet — and didn’t have to share my dessert.
We middle children do not yet have our own organization or self-help group. It’s only a matter of time. When we do start the Forest Park chapter of Middle Children Anonymous, I want to sit at — or near — the front of the room.
