I have always imagined myself in my brothers shoes, but everything shifted quickly.
My mother became pregnant with me at eighteen. As soon as he learned the news, my father walked outhe didnt want a family, only endless parties and friends. My mothers parents, my grandparents, were outraged. In a tiny town outside Lille, having a child out of wedlock was a disgrace, and my grandfather drove my mother from the house, shouting, I never want to see such an irresponsible girl again! I cant even picture what she enduredso young, alone, a newborn clutched to her chest. Still, she pressed on: she enrolled in a correspondence university, secured a job, and gave everything she had. She was assigned a room in a boarding house, and the two of us began our life together. I had to grow up faster than other kidsshopping, cleaning, reheating meals. I had no time for play. From a very early age I became her pillar, her only man.
I never complained; I was proud of it. Then Victor entered our world. I liked him: he brought chocolates, pleased my mother, looked after her. She glowed beside him and one day announced, Victor and I will marry and move into a big house. I was thrilledI dreamed of a real father figure and hoped Victor would fill that role. At first everything seemed perfect. I finally had my own space to rest, listen to music, read books. Victor helped my mother, his eyes sparkling with joy.
Soon after, she told us she was expecting a child. Not long after, Victor said, Youll have to move into the pantry. Thatll be the babys room. I didnt understandour house was large, why me? The next morning my belongings were shoved into a tiny corner that could only fit one bed. It felt unfair, but I kept quiet, accustomed to bearing hardships.
When my little brother Michel was born, the nightmare truly began. His cries robbed me of sleep; I moved through the days like a zombie. My school grades fell, teachers scolded me, and my mother shouted, You must set an example for your brother! Stop bringing shame on us, you lazy fool! As Michel grew, I was given more dutiestaking him to the park, pushing his stroller. Peers mocked me, I blushed with embarrassment, yet I stayed silent. All the best toys and clothes went to Michel. When I asked for anything for myself, Victor snapped, No money. I dropped Michel off at daycare, fetched him, cooked, cleanedliving in the hope that one day hed grow up and I could finally be free.
Michel started school, and my mother ordered me to help with his homework. He was spoiled, fickle, and performed poorly; every time I tried to correct him he complained to Mom. She always defended him, and I was rebuked: Youre the older sibling; be more patient! He hopped from school to school, failing each time. Eventually, we enrolled him in a private school where we paid to overlook his bad grades. I pursued a mechanic training programnot by choice, but to escape the house.
Then came distance learning and a jobworking day and night, saving for my own place. I married, found peace. As for Michel, Victor bought him an apartment, yet he still lives with our parents, rents it out, wastes the money, refuses to work, and spends hours glued to the TV. On New Years Eve we gathered at my parents home; his latest girlfriend, Léa, was there. I overheard their conversation in the kitchen.
Youre lucky with your brother, she told my wife, Marie. Stanislas is a true hardworker, responsible. Why isnt Michel like that? I ask him to move in, start a family, but he clings to his mother. The rent money does us no good.
Yes, Stan is wonderful, Marie replied with a smile. Forget about Michel; he doesnt deserve you. Hell never make a good husband.
I stood frozen. Michel cycled through girlfriends as often as shirts, none stayedmy mother chased them away, deeming them unfit for her golden boy. He never resisted, living in his lazy cocoon. Then it hit me: I no longer envied him. All the fantasies I hadbeing in his placewere nothing but wind. Fate handed me trials, but it also gave me rewards. I have a family, a loving wife, a daughter, a home I built with my own hands. I am proud, and for the first time I rejoice in not being Michel. My life is my hardwon, genuine victory.
