3. My Brother, The Beast
My brother was pretty much a terror to me growing up: teasing me incessantly, beating me up, verbally abusing me, calling me fat and stupid, doing all the things that “normal #siblings do” (so he says). My parents did very little to stop him. For one, I don’t think they knew what to do, but they were also performing #musicians who were rarely home at night. My maternal grandmother would sit for us, and she worshipped the ground he walked on (she always wanted a boy and instead had three daughters). So when he tortured me while she was there, it didn’t matter. He could do no wrong. I remember one time my brother hit me, and my grandmother yelled at me for crying. Yeah, that’s fair.