I always dreamed of being in my brothers place, but soon everything changed.
My mother fell pregnant with me at eighteen. My father left as soon as he heard the newshe never wanted a family, only endless parties and friends. My grandparents were furious. In a small town near Manchester, having a child out of wedlock was a disgrace, and my grandfather turned her out, shouting, “I wont tolerate such an irresponsible girl!” I cant imagine what she enduredso young, alone, with a baby in her arms. Yet she persevered. She enrolled in correspondence courses, found work, and poured herself into it. We were given a room in a hostel, and there our life together began. I grew up faster than other childrendoing the shopping, cleaning, reheating meals. Playtime? There was none. Early on, I became her rock, her only man.
I never complainedI took pride in it. But then Victor came into our lives. I liked him well enough: he brought chocolates, made Mum smile, looked after her. She glowed around him, and one day she announced, “Victor and I are getting married. Well move into a proper house.” I was thrilledI longed for a real father, and I hoped Victor would be that. At first, everything was wonderful. I had my own space, time to rest, listen to music, read. Victor helped Mum, and her eyes shone with happiness.
Then she told us she was expecting. Soon after, Victor said, “Youll have to move to the box room. The baby needs the proper bedroom.” I didnt understandthe house was big enough, why me? The next day, my things were piled into a cramped corner where only a bed would fit. It wasnt fair, but I said nothingI was used to bearing it.
When my little brother Oliver was born, the nightmare began. His cries kept me awake; I walked through my days like a ghost. My school marks dropped, teachers scolded me, and Mum snapped, “You must set an example for your brother! Stop shaming us, you lazy boy!” As Oliver grew, more duties fell to metaking him to the park, pushing his pram. Other children mocked me; I burned with shame but stayed quiet. Everything goodtoys, clotheswent to Oliver. If I asked for anything, Victor would say curtly, “No money.” I took Oliver to nursery, fetched him, cooked, cleanedliving for the day hed grow up so I could be free.
When Oliver started school, Mum ordered me to help with his studies. Spoiled and stubborn, he refused to work. My attempts to guide him ended with him whining to Mum, who always took his side. “Youre the elderyou must be more patient!” shed say. He was moved from school to school but failed everywhere. In the end, he was sent to a private academy where bad marks were overlooked for a fee. Meanwhile, I trained as a mechanicnot by choice, but just to escape home.
Later came evening classes and workI saved every penny for my own place. I married, found peace. And Oliver? Victor bought him a flat, but he still lives with our parents, rents it out, and squanders the money. He wont work, just lounges about watching telly. One New Years Eve, we all gathered at my parents. His latest girlfriend, Lily, was there. I overheard them in the kitchen.
“Youre lucky with your brother,” she told my wife, Emma. “Williams a hard worker, responsible. Why isnt Oliver like that? Ive asked him to settle down, but he clings to his mum. The rent money does us no good.”
Emma smiled. “Yes, Wills wonderful. Forget Oliverhe doesnt deserve you. Hell never make a decent husband.”
I stood frozen. Oliver went through girlfriends like socks, but none stayedMum chased them off, saying none were good enough for her “golden boy.” And he let her, wrapped in his laziness like a cocoon. Thats when I realised: I no longer envy him. All those dreams of swapping placesthey were empty. Life tested me, but it rewarded me too. I have a family, a loving wife, a daughter, a home I built myself. Im proud of who I am, and for the first time, Im glad Im not Oliver. My life is my victoryhard-won and true.
