There’s been a lot of hoopla recently about “eldest daughter syndrome.” The conversation about the burdens and expectations taken on by firstborn girls came to a simmer on the internet and within days boiled over into mainstream news. I noted the topic, but never clicked to listen or scroll to read more. The headlines told me everything I needed to know: This was one syndrome I didn’t have to worry about. I’m the youngest of four.
That makes me a forty-six-year-old baby. Full-grown but never fully formed in the eyes of kin, babies of the family have baggage too. I would even argue that if the eldest sibling carries more of the familial burden, the youngest shoulders more of its blame. In fact, we barely clear