Mrs. Johnson sighed when she saw the big “Do Not Disturb” sign on her daughter Anna’s bedroom door. However, she decided to ignore it. She raised her hand to knock but paused in mid-air as she heard voices coming from the bedroom.
It was late but she couldn’t sleep with the angry conversation she’d had with Anna running through her mind. She was determined to find out what was going on with her usually sweet nature middle child. However, the voices coming through the bedroom door told her that her oldest daughter, Shyquelle had beaten her to the deal.
“What’s wrong Anna?” Shyquelle was saying. Are you trying to get in trouble these days?”
“I’m just tired trying to live up to you,” Anna snapped, still feeling angry.
“Live up to me?” Shyquelle exclaimed, “What do you mean?”
“Everyone compares me to you! Nothing I do is ever good enough. When I have the same teachers that you had before, they compare me to you. My B’s will never measure up to your A’s in their minds, even though I’m doing my best…”
“But Anna…,”Shyquelle tried to insert.
“…and if that isn’t bad enough,” Anna continued as if she hadn’t heard. “Mommy does the same thing. It’s as if nothing I do measures up to you. I feel as if I’m living in your shadow sometimes.”
“Do I make you feel that way?” Shyquelle asked softly.
“No, but everyone else does,” Anna answered. “And sometimes I find myself getting angry with you because of it,” she continued a little sheepishly.
“Maybe you should try talking to Mommy about it,” Shyquelle suggested softly.
“It’s hard talking to someone who always thinks you’re being rude when you try to express yourself,” Anna answered.
From her position outside the room Mrs. Johnson hung her head. “Is that how I make my daughter feel?” she thought to herself, “as if she doesn’t measure up?”
She walked quietly back to her room leaving her daughters’ conversation still going on. She made up her mind that she was going try to be more sensitive to Anna’s feeling and not make her feel as if didn’t measure up to her older sister.
(This story is strictly fictional; any resemblance to persons living or dead is completely coincidental)
