Introducing the new column, Unpopular Opinion . We all have some opinions that, if we said them out loud, we feel like we'd end up in jail. Not because they're necessarily wrong, but because they're... different. They're not what society expects us to hear, they're not supported by the masses, and, above all, they're not appropriate to say at the dinner table with the family. These are the opinions we keep to ourselves, share only with friends, or simply bite our lips to keep them inside. Unpopular opinions are precisely those opinions that most people consider strange, daring, or just plain wrong. But not every opinion that goes outside the rules is necessarily wrong. So, it's time to say some not-so-famous truths.
"If I had a dime for every time I've said, 'I love both my daughters equally,' I would have started a charity for less-favored children. But here I am, still saying the same phrase, the same attempt to deny something that, in fact, is very obvious: I have a favorite daughter!"
Trust me, this wasn't intentional. Maybe it's just a personality thing - my little girl is more loving, sweeter, more social. She calls me every day, even if it's just to ask how I'm doing, writes me long messages about her day, and has no problem hugging me in the middle of the street, even when she's with her friends. She seems like a little friend to me, like someone who understands me better than anyone. Or maybe this strong connection comes from the fact that she's so much like me - in the way she thinks, the way she talks, the way she acts. In a way, I see her as a little version of myself.
But more than that, I believe the main reason is the fact that she has always been the most fragile. Since she was little, she has been sick more often than her sister. She has had a weak immune system and I have often spent my nights with her in hospitals. Every time she had a high fever, I didn't know what to do except stand over her head, with the unspoken fear that something worse could happen. And every time she recovered, every time she looked at me with those big eyes of hers and smiled at me as if to say "Mom, it's over," every kind of ice inside me melted. I believe that, unconsciously, I have always treated her as the most fragile, as the one who needs me the most, even when in fact she may not be like that anymore.
But that doesn't mean I don't love my eldest daughter! She's fantastic - independent, smart, successful. She doesn't need sweet words or frequent hugs. She doesn't call me that often, but when she does, it's always about concrete things. And I admire her for that (I'm telling the truth). But sometimes...sometimes there's clearly a distance between us. Not because I don't love her, but because she doesn't let me love her the same way I love my sister. Maybe it's my own self that doesn't let me. It's like in society, you can get along well with many people, but there's always someone you'll have a better conversation with.
I know she understands this. She understands when I laugh more naturally with her sister. She sees when I unconsciously ask for the younger one's opinion on small things. And sometimes I feel guilty. I wonder if I've ever made her feel less important, less close. But then I see how she's grown: stronger, more confident, more independent. She's the first in every field she tries, while with the little girl it's the opposite, but every time I'm happier for her efforts than for the older girl's successes.
Well, I know that, despite everything, my love is there, even when it's not expressed the same way.
"So, do I have a favorite daughter? Yes. Do I love both? Always." - written for Anabel.al by an anonymous woman and an honest mom.
Note: the article has been adapted by the editorial team for editorial purposes and clarity. Copyright Anabel.al / Reprinting without the permission of the editorial team is prohibited.
