Being the "dumber" sibling

Growing up, I was the more social, loud kid, whereas my older sister was more reserved. She would never come out of her room to greet guests until she was forced to do so by our parents. My parents would tell her "You should be a little more extroverted Misty." but they never bothered her much about it since she was the "smart" kid, always came first, participated in school debates and clubs, always got top marks, on the other hand, their younger daughter was a loud, average, "ok" child.

When Misty would be isolated in her room studying for her next quiz or preparing for her next public speaking event at school, her younger sister 'Nanny" ie; me, would be sitting on the bed sketching away in her A4 sketchbook, which her dad brought for her because he saw great potential. He was never an openly biased man, always saw potential in us, appreciated me and my sister's efforts, but once in a while you would sense his discontentment with us. How he sometimes would expect just a little bit more. His thoughts were valid, parents expect their children to grow. But over time this discontentment grew more and more, not with Misty but with me.

"Why don't you study as much? You should learn from Misty, she is always participating in one thing or the other." my dad used to say. My sister would never stand up for me, and I felt bad, my 7-year-old self just wanted to draw and play in the neighborhood park, but I was expected to be a "Nobel-prize winner". I was not a bad student, just an average one, sometimes I would even score the highest but those instances were rare.

Just like any other younger sibling, I too admired my sister, I saw in her an amazing person who could do impossible things, score well, be good with words, zero stage fright. I wanted to be like her, I started copying her every move, if she didn't like makeup, neither did I, if she was an introvert, so was I, over time even I started to change, I too became an introvert but some things still lacked, I was still an average, frightful student, only interested in sketching my life away. Somehow, after so much effort I still couldn't score the best in my class. Yes, my scores improved but I never looked at that, I only focused on getting good, and never did I focus on understanding the topic or looking at how much I grew over time. I only cared about getting a full score.

Over time I gave up, and so did my grades, but one instance changed my life. In the ninth grade, my assigned homeroom teacher was Mrs.Kassy, she was an intriguing woman who was in her late thirties. Her principles matched mine. She recognized the intellect in every single child, she made not only me but also the other 46 children feel wanted in this world, because of her my grades improved a ton, still not class topper material but I still realized my growth because GROWTH MATTERS, I could finally speak in front of my class, not feeling embarrassed or scared.

I never hated my dad for saying what he said growing up since he didn't grow up with kind loving parents, he was only trying his best to raise us with encouragement and love but it would've been nice if he realized his "encouragement" was not that healthy. I didn't want to hear his "words of encouragement" anymore so I talked to both him and my mum, telling them how I wanted to grow at my own pace and how I had improved a lot over time. Thankfully they listened and agreed.

To this day my dad still nitpicks my flaws here and there, but I just ignore him, I don't need to prove my existence to anyone, as long as I know how hard I'm working and can appreciate myself from time to time. Sometimes the best remedy to a strained/ unhappy relationship is to TALK, if they still don't understand, it's best to be on your terms.