SHI BLOGS TOO

The Middle Child and Criticism

Growing up in a family of seven siblings had it's rewards. I was never at a loss of someone to play with, and I learned about sharing at very young age.

It can have it's setbacks , however. My rank amongst my siblings was one that befell me. I was the classic "middle child." I never knew where I fit in - with the older kids or the younger kids. I can remember being told more than once: "go play with the older kids," and "go play with the younger kids."

It never helped that I was somewhat timid and shy on top of feeling insecure about not fitting in.

Don't get me wrong, though, we all loved each other deeply, and still do for that matter. I am only trying to stress here the insecurities in myself that sprung from sibling rivalry. My willingness to please everyone and seek out encouragement instead of criticism was probably seeded at a very young age because of my position held amongst my siblings.

I never understood it at the time, but it did make me very competitive. I excelled in academics graduating sixth highest in my senior class. Played on the girls’ basketball team for four years, and loved girls’ softball. I participated in any kind of games for that matter, honing my skill for winning.

Yet, when graduation rolled around in my senior year at Montrose High School, I turned down a scholarship to attend college. I was so insecure about my abilities and reluctant to leave the safe haven of my home and family.

I have always regretted that major mistake I made. I was content at the time to relish in the fact that I was the first of all of my siblings to graduate from high school! My having two older brothers who quit school to go to work, an older sister who quit school because of her health problem’s (asthma and eczema), made me first in line for first. Despite, the fact that I earned my cap and gown, I never felt as though my family were that proud of my accomplishment. In fact I never expected them to be, really. What I remember most about my graduation night was my daddy coming to my graduation! I was so proud of him! He worked long hours in the Fisher Body Plant down in Flint, Michigan, and we rarely got to spend any time with him. Most of his spare time was spent drinking beer at home. So when he showed up sober for my graduation I felt elated and proud.

My brothers never continued with any more schooling, yet they all held good jobs out in the workforce.
Two of my sisters did get their GED’s later on, and my youngest sister followed in my footsteps and graduated high school also. She and my sis that’s one year younger than me took classes to further their educations. One became a hairdresser with her shop in her own home, the other still works as a Pharmacist Assistant. I, however, never got past being a wife and a mother of five children.

I spent years at home satisfied with raising my children, and being a good homemaker. It wasn’t until after my spouse of thirty six years succumbed to heart failure, that I ventured out to broaden my horizons. At sixty three years of age I began writing seriously. I joined Writing.Com and posted my writings for critique. Soon reviews started coming in giving me the encouragement I needed to continue writing. I found my genre in poetry and the poems began spilling off of my pen and keyboard.

Then I got my first bad review! I was devastated. I felt humiliated. I was a newbie on the site and I wanted to quit right then and there. I could not, did not, know how to handle the criticism. I told the moderator who reviewed me that I never wanted her to review me again…that I never wanted her visiting my portfolio again! I did, later, apologize to her, but I’m sure she did not recognize my apology. I don’t blame her. I must have made her feel as bad as I did, or worse.

I stayed with the site and wrote one poem after another filling up my portfolio in a matter of months. I wrote several short stories, mostly non-fiction. Still, I continued to welcome the reviews that praised my work and tried to ignore those that offered any amount of criticism. I hated it when people picked my “babies” apart. I tended not to take their advise and edit anything other than what I felt like editing.

I went on to self publish my poetry. I wanted books in print for myself, my children, grandchildren and my extended family members. One of my younger sisters thanked me for the books I had signed and sent to her. She paid for the books and for the shipping cost to send them out of state. She wrote on her thank you note, “It will be nice to own some of my sister’s published poetry. I will enjoy!” I felt good about having my books in print. I rode the “high” until one day I got a note from my older sister. I had sent her two of my poetry books and one non-fiction book of short stories months before and I anxiously awaited her response. The note read “I know I’m late with this note. I want to thank you for sending your diarys’.”

Ouch! Diaries? What about my poetry? She did not acknowledge any talent I might have for writing poetry. I felt like a kid again. She made me feel like a kid again. I was not good enough to be an author…or just plain not good enough period. The “middle child thing” crept back in. The older sister again tried to make me feel…or did I just imagine it…not good enough, still.

That took me awhile to get over, but I never let her know how she made me feel. I made the mistake of letting her know how I felt about something years ago and she turned on me with the Wrath of Lorraine.
That’s her name, and she’s my big sister, and she lets me know it! She can be sweet and I love her dearly, so I try not to butt heads with her because she is older than me and she deserves that respect.

Getting back to writing, I just recently joined a group to improve my reviewing. I had begun to slack off on my reviews and I couldn’t figure out why. So, I signed up to take a workshop for improving my reviews. It has been a real learning experience to say the least. I found out that I just did not have enough confidence to give my real HONEST opinion without hurting someone's feelings...so I slacked off on my reviewing. I have learned so much about bettering my reviews to benefit the person I’m reviewing, and improve my writing to boot.

Never having been one to accept much criticism…this workshop has opened my eyes to the benefits of unfavorable criticism. It made me stop and realize that I was always refusing to accept what I thought was a “bad review”, as something that was for my benefit; to make me a better writer. Sure, I had always read in these reviews that sentence - “this is just my opinion, and take only what you think is helpful.”, but I never really understood until now…that is exactly what they were all about…being HELPFUL.

Needless, to say, I think that now I will be putting my insecurities aside and lavish up the criticism! And review... review...review.

No one ever said that the middle child was stupid did they?