As a boy growing up in Liverpool, my younger brother, Samuel, was always the golden child in the eyes of our mother and grandmother. They adored him, showering him with attention and placing him at the centre of our home, while I stood on the sidelines, mostly unnoticed. He had the finest toys, the tastiest biscuits, pies, berries, and whatever else his heart desired. Meanwhile, I was usually left to clean up his messes, make his bed, and fix his breakfast. I remember feeling like his personal butler, running around trying to satisfy his every whim, and it hurt me deeply.
This pattern gnawed at me, especially because Mum had once suffered in an unhappy marriage before she divorced Dad. I couldn’t help but see the irony after all she’d endured, she was raising my brother to expect the same entitlement! Whenever I tried to stand up for myself, my protests were quickly brushed aside and everything stayed the same. I still recall the struggles of my last year of secondary school, preparing for my GCSEs. As I was hunched over my books, Mum and Gran would call me every few minutes, demanding I drop everything and see to Samuels lunch. Your brother is the most important, theyd insist, making it clear his needs came above all else. I managed to pass my exams, thanks to sheer determination, but the workload was relentless.
When it came time to prepare for university entrance exams, Gran questioned why a woman needed so much schooling in the first place. She urged me to focus on marriage, children, and running a proper household, but I pressed on and eventually earned my degree. It was then that I realised I could no longer bear this constant burden, so I decided to move out. I was tired of being responsible for Samuel every hour of the day. Mum and Gran were furious, especially since Gran had to leave her job to care for her precious grandson.
Leaving home wasn’t easy, but it was the only way I could grow and thrive. I knew I deserved more than a life spent serving someone else, and I resolved to build a future where my worth would finally be acknowledged and respected. The lesson I carry from those years is that sometimes you must put yourself first, even if it means upsetting those closest to you. Thats the only way youll ever truly discover who you are.
