Breaking the Roles We Never Meant to Create

Tonight, I saw a post about the golden child and the scapegoat. I’ve seen those words before, but tonight, they hit differently. Not just as an abstract concept, but as a mirror—showing me the quiet patterns that have woven their way into our family.

On some micro level, my oldest presents as the golden child: always praised for being the good sister, the helper, the one who knows how to keep things steady. My youngest, on the other hand, has internalized the role of the troublemaker, the one with the big emotions, a trend that started from the moment she was born—tiny and fragile in the NICU.

But tonight, something shifted.

It started with my oldest. She got in trouble for encouraging her sister to play a game in the store beyond what I was willing to tolerate. When we talked about it later, she broke down, confessing the pressure she feels to always be the big sister, always behave, always do things right. “Sometimes, I just want to play without all the expectations,” she said, and I was floored.

I knew that feeling. I’d tried to name that in my own history—never fully succeeding—but here it was, crystal clear in her voice. I looked her in the eyes and told her the truth I wish someone had told me: that the pressure can be lightened. That she’s only a kid herself. That she doesn’t have to hold the weight of being the good one.

Later that evening, my youngest had a meltdown over a change in the bedtime routine. I felt the entire household brace itself, as if everyone were holding their breath, waiting for the familiar storm to rage. She ran to her room, afraid—maybe not of her own emotions, but of what they might trigger around her.

But this time, I didn’t follow the old pattern.

I waited for her to come out. When she did, I met her with calm. I told her it made perfect sense that she was upset about the change. Then I asked if we could ease into the night with a cup of tea and a story before bed.

She nodded. We did.

Every night, I’m amazed by the lessons life continues to teach me—about myself, about the future I want for my family. But seeing the words golden child and scapegoat again tonight, I felt something new: the absolute clarity that I want to throw those archetypes out the window.

And tonight, I proved to myself that it’s possible.

Everything we’ve dismantled. Every risk we’ve taken. Every uncomfortable truth we’ve faced. It was worth it—to put my daughters to bed with a story about how happiness can be found in the most unexpected places, when we choose to break free from the roles we were never meant to carry.