WHEN PARENTS PREFER CERTAIN SIBLINGS

Times have changed, and large families are not as common as they were forty or fifty years ago. Yet, one reality remains present in many homes: the subtle or open preference some parents show towards certain children.

This preference may not always be intentional, but its impact can be profound. For the child who receives less attention, less affection, or less recognition, a quiet message is absorbed: “I matter less.”

Let us consider the story of Clemencia.

She was the third of seven siblings, growing up in a home where financial struggles created tension and frequent arguments. From an early age, she became quiet and withdrawn, learning to stay out of trouble rather than express herself. Her father was someone she feared, and her mother, though present, felt emotionally distant.

In her effort to cope, Clemencia became obedient, responsible, and careful hoping that by being “good,” she would be seen, valued, and loved.

She was sent to a convent school for her high school years. There, she remained reserved, forming only one close friendship. During breaks, she would often be seen with her friend and her two sisters—an image that others sometimes mocked. Even in that small circle, she felt like an outsider.

Academically, she was not outstanding, but she was diligent, organised, and consistent. Yet inside, something deeper was taking root: a growing sense of invisibility.

At home, the dynamics reinforced this feeling. Her father showed particular affection for a younger brother—the first boy born after several girls and the loss of an earlier son. Clemencia observed the patience, warmth, and closeness he offered him.

Later, her mother formed strong attachments with another brother and the youngest sister, giving them attention and indulgence that Clemencia never experienced.

Slowly, without words, Clemencia came to believe that she did not matter in the same way.

As the years passed, her self-esteem diminished. She became increasingly shy and withdrawn. At school, instead of joining others, she often chose to spend her breaks in the quiet of the chapel—a place where she felt a sense of peace she could not find elsewhere.

After finishing school, she applied for work and was accepted into a commercial store. From there, an unexpected opportunity arose: a distant cousin offered her a position as a secretary at a prestigious university.

Though she had no prior experience, she accepted. Her first task—a typing test—required persistence. She completed it twenty-five times before achieving a perfect result. That determination became a turning point.

While working there, she took advantage of the opportunity to study languages. Over two years, she completed her courses, opening new doors for her future.

Eventually, she made a bold decision—to move to another country and practice what she had learned. It was not easy, but wherever she went, she found comfort in her faith, always seeking a church where she could reconnect and find inner stability.

Yet despite her achievements, something within remained unresolved.

She realised that she was constantly trying to please others, often without understanding why. Beneath her actions was a deep-rooted fear and a longing for acceptance.

The absence of love and attention in her early years had left a silent imprint: a feeling of being “less than,” of not truly belonging.

For many years, she searched for answers—through books, self-development, and reflection. But it was when she turned more deeply towards spiritual understanding that she began to find something more lasting: a sense of worth that did not depend on others, and a growing connection with the Divine.

Parental preference, even when subtle or unconscious, can leave lasting emotional scars.

Children do not measure love in logical terms—they feel it in gestures, in attention, in presence. When love appears uneven, the child who receives less does not simply “accept it.” Instead, they internalise it.

They may grow up believing:

• “I am not enough.”

• “I must earn love.”

• “Others are more important than me.”

This can lead to patterns of people-pleasing, fear of rejection, low self-worth, and difficulty forming healthy relationships.

What makes this especially significant is that many parents are not aware of the impact of their behaviour. Life pressures, personal wounds, and unconscious biases can influence how they relate to each child.

But the child experiences it deeply and personally.

For parents, this is a gentle but important invitation to reflect.

Every child is different, and each one needs to feel seen, valued, and loved—not in comparison to others, but in their own unique way.

• Offer equal attention, even if expressed differently

• Be mindful of words, tone, and gestures

• Avoid comparisons between siblings

• Create moments of individual connection with each child

• Reassure them, through actions and words, that they matter

For those who, like Clemencia, carry this experience into adulthood, there is also hope.

The past may shape us, but it does not have to define us.

Healing begins with awareness—with recognising that the lack of love you experienced was not a reflection of your worth, although you may have believed it at the time.

You are not “less.” You were simply not seen as you deserved to be.

Through self-understanding, compassion, and spiritual connection, it is possible to rebuild that sense of value from within.