My Name is Whitney and I’m a First-Born Perfectionist

Just a heads up — I wrote this post at work. . . on a paper towel. . . Hey, you work with what you’ve got! 🙂

The afternoons at Java Crew can be kinda slow, so I took my book to work with me. I’m currently reading The First Born Advantage by Dr. Kevin Leman. . . Actually, that’s only one of the, like, five books I’m currently reading, but it’s the one I happened to take to work today. Anyway, in the book, Dr. Leman introduces the First Born Girls Social Club, a club started by two first born women as a place for first born women and girls to explore how their first born traits contribute to their lives. They describe themselves as






















I thought this was quite clever and felt I identified with the majority of the traits (Brandon says I’m bossy, but I prefer to believe I fit the talented, gorgeous, and brilliant traits best). As I’m reading through the book I’m starting to see how my thoughts and actions are shaped by my first born personality. For instance, I started this blog with the intent of updating it on a weekly, possibly even daily, basis. My goal was to fill each post with profound thoughts and humorous anecdotes that would change the world (or at least my readers) and possibly even lead to the next great American novel. . . Okay, maybe not all that, but I did expect to consistently update my blog with decent posts. I guess that’s why I had such a huge gap between posts awhile back. When I sat down at the computer day after day and couldn’t think of anything to write I felt like I was failing at this whole blogging thing. Wait a minute… failing at posting a personal blog?! That’s kinda like saying I failed at keeping a journal. Blogging is something I started doing for me, for fun; it’s not going to ruin my life if I don’t keep at it. Yet I felt that because I didn’t fill my blog with posts that would eventually be compiled into a bestselling novel I had failed at blogging and would never be a good writer, meaning I was a loser. If that doesn’t prove I’m a first-born, I don’t know what does.  

I noticed many other things in my life that scream first born, such as my inability to leave the house without looking completely put together, my habit of picking up everything that it out of place the minute I enter the house, not being able to leave my bed unmade for a whole day, and not asking for help because I feel I should be able to do everything myself. Whew! The life of a first born is exhausting! But ya gotta admit, who doesn’t admire a first born? Leader, organized, top of the class, top of the company, first to get an ulcer . . . yeah, we’re pretty amazing.



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