Thought Picnic: Breaking the yoke of the firstborn

Good intentions count for nothing.

I reflected recently on a situation where many depend on you, but you cannot depend on them. It was highlighted clearly but unnoticed at the time when an appeal was made for help and support.

What was obvious was what others actively did to contribute to that appeal, while those who were expected to do more were caught hand-wringing and hesitating, and were more concerned about how my plight affected them than genuinely caring about what I was going through.

Any contribution, no matter how small, would have helped, but all I heard was intention, and it never amounted to more. I am very grateful to those who, from afar, showed their generosity to a man who was going through a difficult period in his life.

I cannot say if it was a total indifference or a lack of compassion that informed the lack of interaction that visited my cancer diagnosis last year, because a cursory view of my blog and social media activity would have revealed as much, but it might be conceited to think others should be that concerned.

They care little for you.

And so, when one re-evaluates issues as they are, some tough love must be applied to relationships that have become transactional due to family responsibilities. I dare say, they have lacked the care, love, or attention one would normally expect in such settings.

In my many experiences with adversity, they have not been the ones offering to support me; it is friends who stood by me. My shortcomings have been more an embarrassment to them than an opportunity to help, whether emotionally or materially.

Even the supposed comfort once offered by the matriarch soon wore thin as I struggled with my confidence.

Firstborns bear significant burdens of duty, often at the expense of their well-being, especially in non-Western environments. Extraneous demands are placed on us to deliver with little respite; we invest considerable resources with little return, as expectations and entitlement drain what little we try to save for tough times.

Firstborns Anonymous to the rescue.

The lesson we fail to learn is that everyone eventually manages on their own, whether we are there or not. How we burden ourselves at the cost of our own good is rarely talked of. A support group like Firstborns Anonymous could help us break free from these constraints to focus on ourselves.

We have become hostages to misfortune; we did not choose where we end up, and if, for many, we haven't asserted ourselves to gain privileges from our birth circumstances, then perhaps a selfish gene should take over, setting different priorities from cultural norms.

None of it was an investment.

We need to close the door to endless demands and build sufficient capacity for ourselves before we help others. Sadly, none of what was expended was an investment; if it had been, there would be some returns, some relief, some ease. Instead, they are sunk costs we struggle to walk away from, like unprofitable ventures.

In the end, when everything is accounted for, you owe nobody anything. When you exert yourself, do so with the hope that it benefits those who are truly grateful for what you do, and rest assured that if times are hard, they will stand by you.

The disappointment is tangible; our expectations were misplaced in what once seemed like a store of treasure, in family.