In every sense of the word, I am the baby of my family. I have never been expected to hold much responsibility or have my input carefully considered (yeah, I spent the first eighth of my life spoiled and unaware– not proud, but here we are). Things, rightfully, started to change in college when my life became harder. I found myself having big opinions, but no confidence to share them. I tested the waters as I evolved and found that when brave enough to express myself, the responses were not what I hoped for. Life got harder from there, and I ended up hiding in a shell of myself. It wasn’t until others began punting my shell around to break it that I was forced back into the world. In case you’re not up with the times of my somewhat-recent life, my shell was shattered about a year ago, and 2017 officially became the year of Morgan. Not looking to go into that now as it’s a post for the future, but it’s relevant to where I’m going– hang on.
The year of Morgan has been pretty badass, and I can say that I have found about 90 percent of myself. Getting to know me has been revolutionary, and it’s creating a ripple effect in those around me. Though it seems logical as I write this, I’ve found that with the growth of my confidence, friends and family have come to respect me more. I’ve found that the more I write, and the more I grow in therapy, (ps. therapy is great, I suggest it for everyone) the more I’m sought out for my advice and opinion. I suppose I’ve held that role for some time with friends, but the whole adult-humans/family asking for my input is a new phenomenon.
What’s more, drama within my immediate family is a recent development. It’s been festering since my bout in the shell, and my role in all of it is uncharted territory. I’m not the baby, and I’m no longer overlooked. In fact, I’m now expected to facilitate mediation and communication between each side. It’s strange to have my 35 year old sisters ask my opinion, or my 65 year old parents ask for advice. Despite how odd it is, it’s as if I were primed for this role. While new, it’s not overwhelming, and I’m not struggling with it. Miraculously, I’m finding answers within myself and am so conscious of how to handle these situations– it almost baffles me. Who knew this is where I’d find myself in this season of life.
The moral of my story is this: life is constantly changing, and it only makes sense that our roles in that grow too. We’re all on an unpredictable adventure, and I’m learning how ignorant it is to believe that you have any part of it figured out.