I am the oldest of four children. Sixteen, fourteen, eleven, and eight- those are the ages of my siblings and I. My parents are in their forties. Being the oldest, it feels like I’ve had to mature faster than others. I’ve been independent for a long time. Independent in the sense that I can take care of myself… when not talking financially. Two of us are born in March and my two other siblings are born in April. This means that for the six-month dentist appointments, two of us went at the same time with only one parent. I couldn’t split my mom up into two so she could accompany me into that scary room, the room with the big light and the big chair that looks like it could swallow you. My mom was always forced to go with the younger child, leaving me with no other option than to go alone. I swallowed my fears and became my own parent. I became independent in the sense that I was able to enter the dentist alone. I am the first female to be born in my family, not a male. When it came to doing house chores and yard work, I was my father’s right-hand man, or should I say, son. I would refer to myself as my father’s “son.” That was the usual stereotype. A firstborn in a family is a male. Expect I wasn’t. I was forced to learn how to clean up a yard and build a chicken coop. At the same time, I am my mother’s daughter. The stereotypical daughter’s role is to help her mother with the cleaning and cooking. As my mother’s daughter, I was forced to learn how to cook basic meals and learn the basics of maintaining a home. I am also considered the “smart” kid of the family. This forced me to be the one who helps my siblings with homework. My parent’s background and past only allowed them to go to school for a limited amount of time. I was also the first child to be born in America on my dad’s side. This created a sense of pressure that I have something to prove and failure isn’t an option. I always brought home good grades and amazing reports from my teachers. Never did my parents have a bad parent-teacher conference. This forced me to never accept a grade lower than a B and always strive to be known as the “good kid.” I don’t blame anyone for the way I’ve grown up. When I say forced, I mean I was shaped. I was shaped to conquer my fears, be independent, play multiple roles, be the smart kid, be the helpful kid, be the good kid, and more. These are all things that make me, me. My family has shaped who I have become as I grew up. My family will always be a part of who I am.