I always dreamed of being in my brothers shoesuntil everything changed.
Mum fell pregnant with me at eighteen. Dad walked out the second he heardno interest in family, just endless pints with his mates. Her parents, my grandparents, were livid. In a small town near Manchester, having a child out of wedlock was a scandal, and Grandad kicked her out, shouting, I wont have such an irresponsible girl under my roof! I cant fathom what she went throughso young, alone, with a baby in her arms. But she toughed it out: enrolled in an Open University course, found work, and poured her heart into it. We got a council flat, and thats where our little life began. I grew up quicker than most kidsdoing the shopping, cleaning, reheating meals. Playtime? Never had it. Early on, I was her rock, the only man in her life.
Never complainedwas proud of it, honestly. Then Victor came along. Nice enough blokebrought chocolates, made Mum smile, actually cared. She glowed around him. One day, she announced, Victor and I are getting married. Well move into a proper house. Over the moon, I was. Dreamt of a real dad, hoped Victor would be it. At first, it was brilliantmy own room, time to unwind, music, books. Victor helped Mum, and her eyes sparkled again.
Then came the news: she was expecting. Soon after, Victor said, Youll have to move into the box room. Babys taking yours. Confused, I wasthe house was huge, why me? Next day, my things were dumped in a cupboard-sized space barely fitting a bed. Unfair, but I swallowed itused to biting my tongue.
When little brother Oliver arrived, the nightmare began. His crying wrecked my sleep; I shuffled through school like a zombie. Grades plummeted, teachers nagged, Mum snapped, Set an example for your brother! Stop embarrassing us, lazy thing! As Oliver grew, so did my chorespark trips, pram walks. Other kids laughed; my face burned, but I stayed quiet. Best toys, clothes, treats? All his. If I asked for anything, Victor shut me down: No spare cash. Nursery runs, pickups, cooking, cleaningI just waited for him to grow up so I could breathe.
Oliver started school, and Mum ordered me to help with his homework. Spoilt rotten, that onemoody, careless. When I tried to nudge him, hed whine to Mum, and shed scold me: Youre the elderbe patient! He bounced between schools, failing everywhere. Eventually, they shoved him into a posh private one where bad grades vanished for a fee. Me? I trained as a mechanicnot by choice, but to escape.
Distance learning, double shifts, saving for my own placethat was my life. Then came marriage, peace at last. And Oliver? Victor bought him a flat, but he still mooches at Mums, rents it out, and blows the cash on rubbish. Wont work, just slobs in front of the telly. Last New Years, we all gathered at theirs. His latest girlfriend, Emily, was there. Overheard her in the kitchen:
Youre lucky with your husband, she told my wife, Sophie. Daniels a grafter, reliable. Why isnt Oliver like that? Ive asked him to move in, start a family, but hes glued to his mum. The rent moneys useless.
Daniels wonderful, Sophie smiled. Give up on Oliverhes not worth it. Hed make a terrible husband.
Frozen, I stood there. Oliver cycles through girlfriends like socks, but none stickMum scares them off, deems them not good enough for her golden boy. And he? Lets it happen, wallowing in his lazy bubble. Thats when it hit me: I dont envy him anymore. All those dreams of swapping places? Empty. Life threw me curveballs, but it paid off. Ive got a family, a loving wife, a daughter, a house I built myself. Proud? Bloody right. For the first time, Im glad Im not Oliver. My lifes my victoryhard-won, and real.
