The Birthday Party Where My Mother’s Perfect Image Cracked

child. Lauren came first—my sister, two years older, straight-A student, debate champion, future lawyer. Marcus, my younger brother, arrived three years after me, the long-awaited boy.

And then there was me.

For most of my childhood, I lived in the space between them—never as impressive as Lauren, never as adored as Marcus.

I heard “perfect” a lot growing continue reading …