Good morning, folks!
You may think I’m in one of my (recently increasingly) frequent surge of egotism, but your completely off track. Surely this post is about me, in a broader sense. Why? Today’s selection by A.W.A.D. is about family ties. It’s about children, more exactly eldest children. I’m a firstborn indeed, so this post is about me. Me, myself and I.
(pry-muh-JEN-i-chuhr, pree-, -choor)
1. The state of being the firstborn or eldest child in a family.
2. The right of succession and inheritance belonging to the firstborn child.
From Latin primus (first) + gignere (to beget). Not to be confused with primogenitor
. Earliest documented use: 1500.
“Primogeniture! I remembered that, from History 1A. But to hear of this law in reality, in this century, struck me. How could they give all this to one child, leaving the other three without?”
Marjorie Leet Ford; The Diary of an American Au Pair; Anchor Books; 2011.
2. (Diritto di) primogenitura, maggiorascato
I was born first. First child of a first child (my father). This did not bring me much luck, though. I was seen as the ‘favourite one’, like I was born with the silver spoon in my mouth, but I was not. I strove my life long to wipe out this false idea from the mind of everybody I knew. I was surely someone’s fave, my grandma’s one, I bore her name and was born under the Bull, just like her, she called me Principessa (Princess) and used to buy me tons of things, yes, I was a privileged, a spoilt child one once upon a time, but it finished soon. I lost my father in early age and ‘that’ side of my family vanished with him and my small, fairy world was torn to pieces. I was no longer a ‘Principessa’, no more presents, no more pampering. An ordinary girl and her ordinary life with all bad and good that comes with it, with her battles won and battles lost, working hard to go on. Today I’m almost 45 and someone still tries to call me ‘Principessa’ recalling my childhood years. ‘Principessa no longer lives, she died ages ago and is buried along with her dearest memories.” R.I.P.
Your passionate (Italian) Translator
About the title:
If you think the title’s inspired by Beyoncé
, you’re wrong – instead, it’s the title of a song from the nineties by De La Soul
About the illustration: it’s another stunning work by my fave artist on DeviantArt Yanadhyana. Thank you, my friend!