As the youngest, I don't think there was any doubt I was spoiled.
I am the youngest in my family, and have never been responsible for anyone else.
I'm the middle child.
I am the middle child with an older and younger brother.
My position in the family turned out to be a lucky one; I bore neither the brunt of my mother's newness to parenthood nor the force of her middle-aged traumas, as my younger sister, Ruth, did.
I have always been the black sheep of the family. I am the middle child, with an older and a younger sister.
I was just the youngest in the family, and most in desperate need of attention.
I am the baby in the family, and I always will be. I am actually very happy to have that position. But I still get teased. I don't mind that.
I'm the oldest out of five.
A person can be big, because of spirit. A person can be big because of their position in the family, the hierarchy in the family. That role has been played by women who are quite thin.
We think of ourselves as our titles or our jobs or our position in a family. We depend on being praised by others. But something happens when that praise is undermined.
The 14th of 15 kids, I was the second youngest - not a coveted spot on the family totem pole.