When I turned fifteen, Mum and Dad decided they absolutely had to have another kid. So my little brother, Jack, arrived and suddenly all the housework and looking after him was dumped on me. I didnt have a minute for my homework, got scolded for bad grades, and then Dad dropped the bomb: Dont even think about dating anyone until your brother finishes school! I was forced to make a radical choice.
Everyone was quick to congratulate me on the new baby and wish me the best, but I was anything but in a celebratory mood. I dont love revisiting that time, but Im sharing it with you because it shaped a lot of who I am.
Mum was thrilled to have a daughter but more because I could double as a freehandy babysitter. When Jack turned one, Mum stopped nursing him overnight and went back to fulltime work. Gran would pop over in the mornings, and by the time I got home from school she was either asleep or already back at her own place. Jack was basically my charge. He cried a lot and I couldnt seem to calm him down.
My days were a blur of changing his nappies, washing him, feeding him, and constantly whipping up fresh meals. When Mum and Dad got home in the evenings and saw dirty dishes or ironfree laundry, theyd start rattling off how lazy and lazybones I was. Then Id finally sit down at my desk and try to cram in the homework Id missed. School wasnt going well either; the teachers, feeling sorry for me, handed me the dreaded C grades and I got even more reprimands.
Your washing machine does the washing, the dishwasher does the dishes what on earth are you doing all day? All you think about is parties! Dad would shout, and Mum would just nod in agreement, as if shed forgotten what it was like to spend a few hours with a squirmy kid and get the house in order.
Sure, the washing machine does the washing, but you still have to load it, hang the clothes, and iron the leftovers from yesterday. I wasnt allowed to run the dishwasher during the day it ate too much electricity so I had to handwash the kids plates. No one envied my daily floormopping, especially with Jack crawling and running around like a little whirlwind.
Things eased a bit once Jack started nursery. Mum and Dad insisted I pick him up and feed him when I got home, which at least gave me a few spare hours in the afternoon. I pushed myself harder at school and finally managed to finish a term without those C marks.
I started dreaming about studying biology the only subject that really sparked me but Mum and Dad were dead set against it.
The universitys in the city centre, youll be commuting an hour and a half each way. When will you get back? Jack needs to be picked up, then youve got to look after him. Dont even think about it! they said.
Since they wouldnt budge, the next best thing was a local college that offered a course in professional cookery. I enrolled at the culinary school nearest our flat and learned the ropes of pastry. I cant even recall my first semester; I was, as they say, down in the dumps. But I threw myself into it, and soon I was loving the art of baking cakes, biscuits, and all sorts of desserts.
From the second year on I took a parttime weekend job at a café just down the road from our house. At first Mum and Dad complained that I wasnt home enough, but I managed to carve out a little personal time. After I finished my qualifications, I was offered a fulltime position.
Not long after, a new head chef took over the café. He and I started meeting after closing, and Mum and Dad went back to their usual nagging and swearing. A few times Dad even showed up after my shift to stop me from going for a walk with my boyfriend, Tom. One day they organized a family gathering.
They invited Gran, Aunt Diane and her husband, and then plonked me in the middle of the living room, telling me to forget about engagements, strolls, or any sort of conversation.
Youre quitting the café! Aunt Diane shouted. Ive got you a job as a kitchen assistant at Jacks school.
The best news of the day! Mum exclaimed. Jack will always be looked after, and you can go straight home in the afternoons. Youll finally have time to help us.
Giving up my café job where I was respected, paid decently, and where Tom worked too felt like stepping into a bleak school canteen with soggy schnitzels and sticky noodle casserole, followed by endless housework and a life devoted entirely to Jack.
Until your brother finishes school, dont even dream about dating, Dad warned, his voice as stern as ever.
The next day I spilled everything to Tom, and we hatched a plan. Hed always wanted to open his own café; hed been saving, but the cash wasnt enough. We thought about applying for a loan or finding investors. I told him Id need to work two more weeks, and Mum and Dad agreed to let me serve out my notice period.
We never got the loan, but a mate of Toms who managed a big restaurant offered a new project opening in Manchester. Tom flew up for an interview, convinced the boss to let us have a video chat, and while I was talking about myself, he sent over a box of the desserts Id made, tucked in a cooler.
On my final day at the café I left early, grabbed my bag, all my documents and savings, and hopped on the train to Manchester.
Now Im running my own life, the kind Ill dedicate to people I choose, not to those who forced me into a corner. I still love Jack and truly hope well have a good relationship someday. I hold no grudge against Mum and Dad, but I know that if I stayed under the same roof or even in the same town Id still be under their thumb. I wasnt strong enough to stand up for myself, so I had to get away. Im hoping our new city clicks into place and that we both find a bit of happiness.
