I Gathered My Bags of Treats—Say What You Like About Me!

June 14th

Being the eldest sister in a big family in Manchester meant I was more like a second mum than a child. I made everyones tea, looked after them, did the school runs and nursery drops. My parents never bothered asking if I wanted any say in itthere was never any question.

I can count my friends from school on one hand, if that. Truth is, I never had the chance to have proper mates. Other kids would take the mick, saying the only thing I was good for was changing nappies and wiping snotty noses. It really got to me. More than once, I broke down in tears over it. If Dad caught me, hed lose his rag and have a go at me with his belt. Hed shout nonsense about knocking the stupidity out of me. I suppose in his world, that made sense.

Childhood wasnt really on offer for me. After finishing Year 11, my folks picked out a college nearby no discussion and told me Id be learning to cook so the family would always have a decent meal.

Three years later, I was working in a café. Didnt love it, but at least it paid. Dad started pushing me to pinch food. I flat out refused, couldnt bring myself to do it. Mum laid into me, calling me selfish, saying people went to bed hungry because of me, and they took my first months wages. When I finally got my hands on my second pay packet, I legged it. Jumped on the first train out of Piccadilly, didnt check the destination. Anywhere was better than that place. Deep down, I knew if I stayed any longer, my own hopes would disappear forever.

The early days on my own were tough. Not as tough as being a dogsbody at home, though. I promised myself that, no matter how hard it got, I wouldnt go back. Started washing floors, sweeping, eventually landing a job as a washer-up. Only after that, I finally got to help in the kitchen.

Even when my pay went up, I saved every penny. I kept my wages in an old teapot, hoping one day Id have a flat of my own. For a while, I lodged with my nan, an old dear who asked for next to nothing in rent. Id do odd jobs around the place for her. She became like a real mum to me. Whatever the day threw at me, thered be a cup of tea and a homemade scone waiting when I got in. Nothing in the world could beat those evenings.

Not long after, I met Sam. We didnt bother with the fuss of a wedding, just signed the register at the council office. I moved into his parents’ house, and within a year, we had a daughter, Abigail, and later a son, Henry.

I found myself thinking about my mum and dad, wondering if things might have changed. Sam and I talked it over, and I decided to pay them a visit. Spent my savings on gifts, tried to hope for the best. When I turned up, all I got was insults and shoves. My brothers were drunk, my sister had gone off the rails.

Mum and Dad barely glanced at my kids, didnt ask their names, nothing. They slammed the door before Id even set my bags down. Some might say I held a grudge, but I turned on my heel and left without a backwards glance. I took my presents and my pride and walked away for good. I wouldnt go back even if it were for a funeral.

From all this, Ive learned that sometimes family isnt where you came from, but where you find kindness. I may have left my old house behind, but in doing so, I finally found my own home.