Ive always imagined myself in my brothers shoes, but everything shifted quickly.
My mother got pregnant with me when she was eighteen. My father walked out as soon as he heard the newshe wanted endless parties and friends, not a family. My mothers parents, my grandparents, were outraged. In a small town near Lille, having a child out of wedlock was a scandal, and my grandfather threw her out, shouting, I never want to see an irresponsible girl again! I cant even picture what she enduredso young, alone, a baby in her arms. Yet she pressed on: she enrolled in a correspondence university, found work, and gave everything she had. She was assigned a room in a dormitory, and the two of us began our life together. I had to grow up faster than other kidsshopping, cleaning, reheating meals. There was no time for play. From an early age, I became her pillar, her only man.
I never complainedI was proud of it. Then Victor entered our lives. I liked him; he brought chocolates, pleased my mother, and took care of her. She glowed around him, and one day she announced, Victor and I are getting married and moving into a big house. I was thrilledI dreamed of having a real father, hoping Victor would fill that role. At first everything seemed wonderful. I finally had my own space to rest, listen to music, read books. Victor helped my mother, his eyes shining with happiness.
Soon after, she revealed she was pregnant. Not long after, Victor told me, Youll have to move to the storage room. Thatll be the babys bedroom. I didnt get itwhy me when the house was huge? The next day my belongings were piled into a tiny corner that could only fit a single bed. It felt unfair, but I stayed silent, accustomed to bearing it.
When my little brother Michel was born, the nightmare began. His cries robbed me of sleep; I drifted through days like a zombie. My school grades fell, teachers scolded me, and my mother shouted, You must be a role model for your brother! Stop embarrassing us, lazy! As Michel grew, new duties fell on metaking him to the park, pushing his stroller. The other kids teased me, I flushed with shame, yet I kept quiet. Everything besttoys, clotheswent to Michel. When I asked for something for myself, Victor snapped, No money. I dropped Michel at daycare, fetched him, cooked, cleanedliving only for the day hed grow up and free me.
When Michel started school, Mom ordered me to help with his homework. He was spoiled, capriciousdid poorly, and whenever I tried to correct him, he complained to Mom. She always defended him, and I was rebuked: Youre the oldest, you must be more patient! He bounced from school to school, failing everywhere. Eventually he was placed in a private school, where bad grades were overlooked for a fee. I took a mechanic coursenot by choice, but to escape home.
Then came distance learning and workday and night, saving for my own place. I married, found peace. And Michel? Victor gave him an apartment, yet he still lives with our parents, rents the place, and wastes money. He wont work, spends hours glued to the TV. One New Years Eve we gathered at my parents house. His latest girlfriend, Léa, was there, and I overheard their kitchen conversation.
Youre lucky to have 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 Michel; he doesnt deserve you. Hell never be a good husband.
I stood frozen. Michel swapped girlfriends like shirts, but none stayedMom drove them all away, deeming them unworthy of her golden boy. He never resisted, sinking deeper into laziness like a cocoon. In that moment I realized I no longer envied him. All the dreams of being him were empty wind. Fate threw hardships my way, but it also gave me rewards. I have a family, a loving wife, a daughter, a home I built with my own hands. Im proud of myself, and for the first time Im glad Im not Michel. My life is my hardwon, genuine victory.
