"You're the example."
They said it often; it stopped sounding like a sentence but as a role.
A law.
Something permanent.
It didn't matter what happened.
It didn't matter who started it.
Nothing mattered not her tiredness, her soggy eyes swollen from lack of sleep.
"you're the eldest.
"Act like it."
And just like that, the weight shifted back to her tiny shoulders.
Her siblings could make mistakes.
Loud ones.
The kind ones that comes with shouting, slamming doors, and second chances.
But her mistakes?
They were unacceptable.
No second chances, no throwing tantrums.
Because she was supposed to know better. Even when no one had taught her.
She was corrected more.
Watched more.
Expected to shrink herself more.
Not because she was wrong but because she was first.
First to be blamed.
First to be called when things went wrong.
First to be reminded that she had no room to fail.
"Don't answer back."
"Mind your behavior, they said."
"Act like the role model, the younger ones are watching."
They were watching as if she was a lesson, not a person.
Her life existed as a warning or as an example to someone else.
She learned to edit herself, to keep her emotions in check.
To think twice before speaking.
To swallow reactions before they became "attitude."
To carry anger like something shameful, like a taboo.
Because anger didn't look good on her.
Not on the "mature one."
Not on the "responsible one."
So she became careful.
Careful of her tone.
Careful of her attitude.
Careful not to take up too much space.
She learnt to read the room.
But no one was careful with her pain.
That part didn't matter.
Nothing concerning her wellbeing mattered.
What mattered was control.
What Mattered was obedience.
What mattered was the image- the perfect eldest daughter who holds everything together.
Even when her world was crumbling down, when everything was falling apart.
Even when she wants, just once, to be the one who was allowed to mess up…and still be held.
But that wasn't her role.
Her role was to set the standard.
To be the blue print.
To get it right first time- every time.
And if she didn't?
She was a disappointment.
So she learned to live with pressure sitting in her chest like something permanent.
Learned to carry expectations that didn't bend.
Not to her.
Learned that love, in her world, felt more like performance.
Because being the example meant one thing-She was never allowed to just be.