Because the eldest son was never just a child.
He was the experiment, the shield, the silent witness.
He saw the rawest version of his parents —
the financial fights, the emotional chaos, the pressure to survive.
No older sibling to lean on.
No blueprint.
Just silent expectations:
“Be strong.”
“Don’t cry.”
“Set the example.”
He internalized stress he didn’t understand.
He became the third parent — without being asked.
And now? He’s a man who can’t rest.
Can’t show weakness.
Can’t ask for help.
That’s why the firstborn son often carries invisible wounds.
He wasn't raised — he was forged.
So if you’re the eldest son,
and you feel tired for no reason,
that’s the reason.
You never got to just be a boy.