I can recall the moment that my Mum told me that my brother was different.

Her words were ‘Your brother is special’.

I understood that he went to a different school and that we wore different uniform to me,

but at that age, all I believed was that my brother was special,

he was amazing, different, someone in my life who I was instantly in awe of.

He was a role model to me and the most exciting part of my world.

I couldn’t wait to share this information with my friends.

It became my most exciting fact I had to tell and I loved talking about him.

As I grew up, I began to notice that he didn’t understand things like I did.

He didn’t always think before he acted, and sometimes he’d make silly mistakes.

I began to feel the need to step in.

When we played with toys, I took the lead, when it came to deciding what to do, I would do the organising.

When it came to doing homework, I took pride in helping you even sometimes setting you tasks from time to time.

We put on Christmas shows every year with our teddies, even when we were both in secondary school.

I began to realise that although you were my big brother in age, I was becoming the big sister in action.

And this is when reality began to hit.

As people around me grew up and started making memories with their siblings, I noticed that you still liked to watch things like fireman sam, that you were scared of loud noises and the dark, that you couldn’t be in kids clubs with me.

Your biggest interest was Arsenal and you could recall facts from 30 years ago as if they’d happened yesterday, but you couldn’t read the word ‘cat’.

I was jealous that you got to do ‘fun things’ at school, you didn’t have to sit at a desk all day and write essays.
But you didn’t seem to notice, and it was hard for me to understand.

My emotions began to muddle, I grew confused, I grew frustrated, even slightly resentful at times.

I hated myself for feeling anything but positive emotion towards you, but as I began to grow, the differences between us became clearer.

I began to see the impact of these differences, not only on us, but on our parents and it was harder for them to disguise the practical and emotional difficulties that came with having a son with Special Needs.

As an adult, I can see things clearly now.

I know why you are who you are.

I know why Mum had to give up her job.

I understand why you needed Dad’s extra help.

I know that you are so much more than special, you, and our parents for that matter, are truly exceptional.

The way that I felt as a 5 year old child, that instant feeling of awe and admiration, that is the feeling that I will always hold on to.

I am who I am, because of you and our parents, and you will forever be the greatest and most amazing parts of my world.