Me and the lovely Normita Floro during her 70th birthday last year, July 2025. My sister threw the nicest party for her. I almost cried, as I do when I talk about mom or family.
When I graduated college, it was kind of uneventful. I wasn’t close to anyone in my graduating class. Because I was always running back to San Jose on the weekends and working all week, I didn’t really explore the city and make the kind of friends I thought I would. In fact, that is one of my regrets about my time in college — I was in one of the coolest cities in the world, and I didn’t bother to really live it up and immerse myself in it.
The ceremony itself was just as uneventful. I didn’t even really want to go. By then, I was already back in school going for my teaching credential, and the lack of connection I felt to the program and my peers certainly did not help. But of course, it’s one of those lifetime achievements that possibly only happens once, and I knew it would be important to my parents, so I did it.
At my graduation lunch, it was my parents, one of my dad’s aunts, and my mom’s sister in law. None of my uncles or aunts came, no cousins, no friends… nothing. We went to a Filipino restaurant I no longer remember. I remember thinking the lunch was oddly appropriate considering how I felt about the graduation in general.
When my brother AJ graduated middle school — phat party. When he graduated college — phat party. His birthdays… always the same case. My sister… same thing.
In elementary school I didn’t notice it much. As I got to middle school, I noticed. My middle school graduation was hardly attended. Same for my high school graduation and the dinner I got. Yes, I got a small dinner “only.” I also remember not even being able to order what I wanted. I shook it off.
Growing up, my parents also supported my siblings financially in various ways when they needed help. I never really got that growing up. Again, not something that went unnoticed by me.
At some point during late high school and into college, I started bringing it up, and my parents were always defensive about it… saying it wasn’t true and that it was all in my head.
“Sure, Jan” – from the brilliant Brady Bunch 90s parody film. Went this went viral a few years ago to send people whose stories you doubted, I died.
When my sister was having her phat cotillion, I was tasked with a lot of the graphic design work, including the programs and notably, the slideshow. I was doing everything nicely and with taste, of course. By then, I was already working, and one day I came home from work while my mom was stressed out with all the planning. She asked me about the slideshow and I said I wasn’t done yet, and she blew a gasket. I raised my voice and said I was working on it, and she replied with, “You’re just jealous you don’t have a cotillion.”
That one definitely stung.
Again, I shook it off.
At some point in my early 20s, I just stopped bringing it up. I’ll say it was a result of growing up and moving on. I was an adult now anyway, and had my own things to worry about — namely hustling for cash to fight the predatory student loans.
My mom and I were (are actually) really close. While I was working at Overfelt High School, I’d stop by the house for lunch with her from time to time. Sitting around the table one day eating good Filipino food, my mom suddenly started crying.
She said after thinking about it for the longest time, she realized my perception of things was actually correct.
She explained, however, that the lack of attention or financial assistance was never intentional. She shared that in many cases, it simply appeared my siblings needed more immediate help or attention while I always seemed okay. She also explained that whenever it was my turn for some major milestone or event, they’d suddenly be in a financial bind — maybe someone lost a job, or something in the house needed fixing.
She also brought up that she had no idea why less people attended my birthdays, but admitted it was very noticeable.
To that point, I’ve come to realize May is honestly just a busy month. Aside from sharing it with a ton of other birthdays, it’s also graduation season and a big travel month.
Similarly to my dad in my last blog, that acknowledgement from my mom was all I needed. I never brought it up again. I believed her.
In a lot of ways, I believe I am secretly my mom’s favorite. Not favorite in the sense that she loves me more than my siblings — I think we are all equal in that regard. I mean favorite in the sense that I genuinely think she enjoys talking to me the most.
I am with Jan Brady on this one — middle child syndrome absolutely exists.
And I also think that, in many cases, similarly to my own, parents are not always aware of it. In all the excitement of celebrating the firstborn, by the time the second child rolls around, it can become a bit of a “been there, done that” situation. Maybe a slightly less flashy first birthday party this time around. Maybe a hand-me-down.
Whatever the case, open lines of communication about needs are important. I also wish I had been a little more proactive in expressing mine because, for all I know, maybe they would have paid more attention.
Yesterday was Mother’s Day. My mom rode in my car as we drove to Westfield Valley Fair after lunch with the family so we could pick out a nice dress for her to wear to my birthday. We had a really nice conversation, just like we used to in my early 20s.
Being able to talk to her freely and openly about all things now is one of the best feelings in the world.
This version of Jan Brady lives rent free in my head. She was the most hilarious character in those 90s films. Shout out to all the Jan Brady’s.