Our family was all tightly knit, my brother was born when I was six, I didn’t really understand why it was happening, and how I was supposed to be happy about having a brother. I lied. ‘Of course it will be great to have a little brother.’ I knew in the pit of my stomach it was not going to be great. My mother and father seemed happy, but what was happiness. This was the year my unhappiness began. When my brother Curtis was born in April 1995, I was being carted between family members and family friends. My mother and her son where the most important thing. This was organised, not a mistake, unlike me. There was happy pictures, baby albums, a place for him to sleep. It was all organised, unlike me. I was in the way. He was dressed up in outfits that were brought. I was never allowed new things. I suppose I felt second best, I know my parents didn’t feel that, I used to be a stroppy little girl and scream and shout ‘you don’t love me’ at my parents. It must’ve been difficult to love me through the years.