living in the shadows

Every child lucky enough to grow up with siblings is undoubtedly going to either grow up casting the shadow or being hidden in it. 

Theoretically, I'm lucky. I get to do both. I am the "middle child" you see. It's special, there's even a syndrome named after it, but the diagnosis is not good. Some go as far to say that middle children feel insecure, have trust issues, are loners and lack a sense of belonging. Maybe that's why they advise against cyber self-diagnosis. There is even a website dedicated to the "Middle Child Personality". Complete with a 10 question quiz, followed by a ranking system not unlike those in Cosmo or Cleo. By counting the Yes's and scoring accordingly I fell into the "4-5" category. The verdict? "You just suffer low self-esteem. Nothing weird, go fix your hair and you will do fine" (That reminds me, I have a casting call to get to soon.) 

On a less depressing note, they are, extremely creative according to the World Wide Web. Finally something i can relate to! This does not, however, reflect in the name my parents gave me. Did they not conduct some sort of research as to the effects of being a middle child and bearing a forgetful name? 


The eldest, my brother. Bright, quick-witted, athletic, steals the spotlight, slightly narcissistic, blah blah. Well, he was given the name of a greek god. Ironically a god of light and the sun, that must be why his shadow is so big. The son of Zeus, a European species of butterfly, an asteroid, an automobile, comics, a record label, the list goes onnnnnnnn. I haven't even mentioned the movie! 

The youngest, my sister, is perspicacious, insightful, creative, excelled at school, blah blahhhhh, was given the name of a princess. Daughter of Herodius. Her stepfather even demanded the head of John the Baptist as a gift to her. (Interestingly, her name derives from a Hebrew word meaning peace, but thats another story). The origins of her name even supplied her blog title. Lucky girl. Would you want to follow a blog named "Woodland clearing of Cyneburg"? Don't bother answering, I'm insecure enough as it is, remember?

By no means do I loath my siblings for their good fortune, in actual fact we get along very well. But my blog is for my rants. And rant I will. About forest clearing. Yes. You read correctly. Forest clearing,  clearing forests aka Kimberly's meaning. That's it. Oh, and a town in South Africa and a few mountain ranges in Northern Australia.

During introductions people would examine my brother, then gaze at my sister in awe of "such a beautiful name". Then I would get the blank, pitiful look. You see, my name is a hermaphrodite. It's both male and female. What's worse, when I'm speaking about my parents other offspring, nobody can understand their unique, exotic names, so I find myself having to constantly repeat them. Slower, clearer. Each time a reminder of my very boring, exceptionally common name, and my even more common nickname; Kim. 

So, there it is. The brood of three. Raised by a mother that bears the same name as the famous Vladimir Nabokov novel. I can't help but feel slightly jaded and a little disappointed. 


Mmmnn. Perhaps one day you can come visit me in my forest. It's nice and shady down here.