During my lifetime, I have come across a handful of extremely useful rescuers, who all happened to be oldest daughters in their family. I, myself, am the oldest daughter in my brood and can heartily attest to the fact that I was my mom's #1 helper. If she had any problems or stress, I was the one she hauled out of school to fix things.
Oldest D's are excellent at fixing any problem and keeping the peace, to the exclusion of their own happiness. Having a rescuer as a friend or mate is ideal, for the other party. Whilst having someone bend over backwards to help me and meet all my needs is a truly wonderful gift, it is not fair. Support is a fabulous thing but fairness trumps feeling good. Rescuers choose to get the short end of the stick as they only find value in themselves from helping others.
When my mother stopped needing my, after I had moved away, I lost all of my value. Thus I picked up a husband who needed a mighty rescuer. After exhausting all my resources and falling into physical and emotional degradation, I had to call it quits. I could not fix him. At that point, I was so rundown that I could not even fix meself. I lost and it felt like the ultimate of failures. My self-worth had eroded, atrophied and completely disappeared.
So, I tried again. I found jobs that would allow me to help others. I became a nurses aide and once again, was riding high on my value as a person, after all, isn't that why my parents had me, to help them? For years, I had no sense of myself as a person unless I was helping someone else. Looking back, I walked the wrong path of thinking. Now, I try something new.
This road is shiny, new and completely unused, but I am going there. It is a road whereby I am the only being of any importance and my needs come first. Time to figure out what those are exactly. Ahh, a ticking clock, I must examine this more closely, for I am at a complete loss as to what makes me tick. A few steps farther, a blossoming tree with indiscernible fruit. Say, what is it that I desire to bring to fruition? Another one of those, "this needs a much closer look."
The path is unkempt with rogue boulders, overgrowth and brush. I'll have to brandish me machete, if this is the way I choose to go.
Being the oldest daughter meant being on call 24 hours a day. It meant examining and triaging the wounded, calming the neurotic, prostituting the sexually deviant, helping and caring for everyone else. I became nothing, absolutely nothing, unless I had a problem to fix. No more.
I owe it to myself to find out who I am, other than what someone else needs me to be.
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