Speak...

   I am the one in the middle. The one who can't possibly say anything that hasn't already been said. The annoying younger sibling that can't catch up. Constantly chasing after her brothers. Trying to win approval. Always left in shadow.

   I am the middle child. The one too young to hang with the older kids. And too old to still be babied. The one expected to learn from the older one's mistakes but never make any myself. Always be the perfect role model. Do everything as mother says.

   I am the middle one. While my brothers are old enough to walk on their own, focus moves to the two youngest siblings; the babies. I am the one stuck between two very different times. Old enough to tie my shoes but not to cross the street alone. Both, too old and too young for my own good.

   Five is such an uneven number. So, to make things work, I was the one on my own.  The one just outside of the frame.  Picture unfocused. The one who learned to make it alone.  Too young to be old and too old to be young.

   And when my brothers talked back and swore, making mother cry, I was the one she told to be the better child. While my younger siblings vied for attention I was the one sent to entertain myself. And I did. Never arguing, never disagreeing, never saying anything I wanted. I just simply did as told.

   So suddenly I became the quiet, obedient child. Never wanting to step out of line. Always eager to please. Letting things be decided and answered for me. Never having my own voice. Never needing to speak.  Not having anyone to listen.

  In time I began to write. I became a weaver of words. Manipulating the many nouns, verbs, and adjectives. Until I could take something as common as a moth and spin it into something beautiful. Change the way others saw the world. As eventually I began to share what I wrote, so that in a world where I was silent, I finally learned to speak.