Let me tell you a tale of thee children. Three brother to be more exact. Their father was an exceptional woodworker, and made many crafts, that were of extremely high standards. Each boy loved the things that their father made them, and each desired to learn the skills to produce works of equal quality.
When they were young they would take their pocket knives, the pride of their 6 years of age, and whittle wood. They would make spears and swords out of sticks they acquired in the woods. They would play games where they fought dragons and wolves, orcs and aliens. As they grew so did their craftsmanship. Their knives improved, allowing for more detail, and their repetition allowed for a stead creation of wooden weapons.
Soon the two oldest were taking classes in school, learning how to make real objects, with reasonable purposes. They learned quickly, and brought home many projects, and crafts. They made tables, and desks, bowls and chairs. They created so many things, that were shown to the rest of the family in a prideful fashion. Their works were placed in the front and center of the house, in the place where guests could see.
By the time the third, the youngest child reached the classes he was ready to do what his father, and brothers had done. They had followed perfectly in their fathers footsteps, and impressed all. All the third child wanted to do was to be just like them, but he wasn't. Throughout all of his life, he had never quite hit the bar his brothers had set, his grades, and his social stature were never as high. He never seemed to reach the ungodly high bar his brother had set. But he was determined to reach the bar on this woodworking. He was confident he could.
As he took the class it started off well, he thought he knew what he wanted to do. But as time and life change plans upon him, nothing seemed to go well. Each project he turned out, a chess board, a stool, a birdfeeder, each was put in places where none could see. They were even stored away. When he attempted to try to class again, like his brothers and father had, he was unable to do well. He failed at every turn, and eventually came to terms with his inabilities. Each project he made was put in storage, or his room (a place none would go) while his brothers works were everywhere to see.
You see? Being the youngest might have its benefits, but it has a massive downside: Shoes. What do I mean? When you follow in the footsteps of your parents alone, you have big shoes to fill, but when your brothers are following in your parents footsteps, the pressure is on you to succeed. Because lets face it, the parents always seem to be prouder, or at least more interested in the children who are like them.
The Youngest must either be just as good, or better than the older or else he/she feels the weight of shame and inability upon their shoulders. It's hard to be the one who fails where all others suceed, especially if they are expected to suceed.
So I guess what I'm really saying, don't look down on the youngest because you see them as the brats, they aren't always that way. They have big shoes to fill, and the pressure is immense. That boy from the story, ended up being nothing like his parents or brothers, he became a completely different man. He is still learning to not worry about the shoes ahead of him, because he walks his own path, he writes his own destiny.
So if you are like the boy, who I am sure you've figured it out to be me, then realize this. Those shoes that you desperate want to fill, are illusions, and are designed for you to fail. Make your own marks, and take the path you wish. There is nothing worse than being great at something you hate, follow the uncertain path, and see where it takes you. Because that's the beauty of life, it might end up farther than the footsteps you were originally following.
