how did it feel, eldest daughter?
was it always this lonely? was everything so different?
No one gets the eldest daughter rage like an eldest daughter. No one ever gets to judge the anger coming out of that eldest daughter, that first girl, that daughter whom you put so much pressure on. No one ever has the right to disregard that rage built by so many words you’ve said.
No one has the right to put you out of your bed after hours of building your own persona. Saying “I can be as talented as the older brother, I can be as intelligent as the younger sibling, I can be as fearless as the middle child,” that I can finally prove my worth in this so called family.
No one has the right to tell you that all your efforts will not come true. No one deserves to put you in a hole you are so deeply in for years. No one has the right to throw their anger at you just for being too loud, too quiet, too distant, or too shy.
No one has a right to dictate a future for yourself. No one.
No one has the right — yet everyone has. Suddenly everyone has the right to dig up your past. Suddenly everyone has the right to tell you things you don’t want to hear. Yet suddenly, everyone has the right to bring you down.
Suddenly you are that black sheep. When you became the woman — the woman they never wished you were. They wanted to create a monster within you, they wanted you to be so scared of the present right in front of you. They wanted a monster, not this villain.
It will be so hard to run away from them. From the judging eyes to the countless stares — no, they weren’t stares, they were glares . These people who raised you, were they truly who they are? Did they really act that way? Or was it just because it’s you, the eldest daughter?
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People will talk, that is something we can not change. They will talk about you, about what you do. As if they are relevant as you live your life.
No, because why is it that the eldest daughter, the oldest sister, has always been a monster? A monster in disguise waiting to be pounced on in order to truly show themselves. A monster who never really wants war, but peace. But why is it always, the daughters who wanted peace the most are suddenly the attackers? Why are we suddenly the worst beings ever?
Is it because of our frank nature? Or is it our sharp mouths? Either way, this woman was never a monster, but a villain who could sacrifice their worlds for their own peace. That’s what they need the most, the peace they yearned for after so many years of battling the unsolicited words from the people who surrounds them.
Let us choose ourselves this time, please.
And when we did, we ask ourselves, was it always this lonely? Yes, it is always that lonely. But the thing is, you can live with this loneliness and one day you are better. When you choose yourself, it will always be so different. When you finally get the courage to lead a life you only had the idea off. It will be lonely, but it will fade.
You are built independent, you are built strong, you are built different. So different from every other woman your mom compared you to. So different from the siblings your dad liked more than you.
You are built peaceful, like the library. You are built by every word, like a book. You are built so gently that even the slightest touch may dent you. And maybe you are built to be alone, to traverse the world on your own. To feel the loneliness the world will throw.
But most importantly, you are built to be loved and cherished, like old transcripts and limited edition bags.
for the eldest daughters,
