Not the Firstborn Son

In my family, the firstborn son was everything. He carried on the name, he was expected to go to college, to have a phenomenal carrier and provide for a family.

The daughter? Just as bright, just as driven, not so much. IF I went to college, it was to attract a bright, successful man to marry. I was never expected to have a career unless I didn’t have children right away, then I was expected to teach until the family expanded.

I’m 51, still not married. It took me years to break free from the teaching expectation and establish a career. I still battle the glass ceiling, but at least I can reach out and touch it.