Why do I still see my siblings as the people they were in childhood?
This is a two-way street. She is a fashion designer and exquisite draughtsperson – which I, also, after many decades, have yet to wrap my head around – but she can't drive, and if ever she is a passenger when I'm driving, she is on red alert, pointing out things – mainly other cars, pedestrians, trees – as if, without her intervention, I would plough straight into them. Our brother is a skilled decorator and, when he uses words such as 'primer' and 'dust sheet', I can't help looking at him as if a cat is talking. He is a photographer by profession, and, even if we point the same phone at the same object, he creates images that are unfathomably deeper and more pleasing than mine. I look on this not so much as a knowledge base he has that I don't, and more like an act of hocus-pocus. My other brother is a maths teacher, my other sister is a physicist, and I cannot describe how fanciful I find it that they may really be doing these jobs. Obviously, I have to pretend to believe it. I don't even know whether you get wired in childhood to think all knowledge is equally distributed because otherwise it isn't fair, or that every fine difference in skillset is just a question of whoever is younger catching up. But no amount of adulthood can overturn it.
Anyway, I couldn't help but notice that, after it rained, the garden looked amazing. It's possible my sister is right on this one thing.
Zoe Williams is a Guardian columnist
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
The Guardian
4 hours ago
- The Guardian
I've moved 28 times in my lifetime. This is the story of a new America
My special talent: I can survey any room in a house and accurately estimate how many cardboard boxes and spools of bubble wrap are needed to efficiently contain its contents. I wish it wasn't a personal point of distinction, but I can't escape it: I've lived in 28 homes in 46 years. In my middle-class midwestern family, two rules reigned: you never questioned going to Catholic Mass on Sundays, and you never asked why we kept moving – the only answer was always the same: 'It's for your dad's job.' And so we followed him, the car-top carrier on our wood-trimmed station wagon bursting with clothing, mix tapes and soccer cleats as our eyes fixed on passing cornfields. Being jostled between addresses became the defining characteristic of my coming-of-age 1990s girlhood. I'm now 46, and I can't seem to stay in one home longer than a handful of years. That same geographical stability I craved as a child has become an emotional confinement. I'm terrified to make an offer on another house; it would signal permanence in a body pulsating with restlessness. I used to think our constant moves were just a quirk of my family – but we were part of something bigger. In the 1970s and 1980s, Americans were on the move. A shifting economy, two-income pressures, and corporate relocations made motion feel like progress. We weren't just packing boxes – we were absorbing a national ethos that told us movement was advancement, even if it left us unmoored. My story started in seventh grade. I was a target for bullies with a pimpled face and thick, frizzy hair. Puberty shot me into a frame like my grandma's – 5ft9in, solid bones, size 10 shoes – so when my parents sat us down on the couch for a 'family meeting' the summer before eighth grade and said we were moving from rural Missouri to suburban Chicago, I was excited to escape the ridicule of the popular boys. Mom was a homemaker and Dad the breadwinner; she didn't put up a fuss about the move. My parents married days after they graduated from Ohio State because Dad had a job offer in Baltimore and Mom couldn't go unless they wed. They never had time for wanderlust, and I now sometimes wonder if she wanted an adventure or loathed it. As I started in my new school, my parents blessed me with prescription-strength face cream and let me throw a party in our basement. I invited all 59 kids in the eighth grade class – branding myself the 'fun new girl'. It worked and soon I found myself singing Soul Asylum lyrics into a hairbrush along with my new besties at a sleepover. Meanwhile, my mom became obsessed with our new neighborhood in Naperville, an idyllic suburb of Chicago. She raved about the riverwalk and every other upper-middle class touch we hadn't experienced previously. I loved it too. I started high school the following year with a large contingent of friends, playing basketball and soccer. Then, the summer before sophomore year: another family meeting. We were moving back to Missouri. I sobbed for weeks, devastated to leave the first life that felt like mine. I still remember looking out the back window of our minivan as my mom blasted Carole King's Tapestry as we headed south on I-55. The cumulative stress of relocating during critical developmental stages can impact kids later in life, according to a 2024 study published by JAMA Psychiatry. People who moved more than once between the ages of 10 and 15 were 61% more likely to experience depression in adulthood. This data wasn't just inked in journals; it lived in me. And like a suitcase full of unresolved attachment issues, at 14 I carried these experiences with cramped hands. It informed my understanding of permanence: that true safety was an illusion, that stability was always conditional, that the only reliable way to cope with discomfort was to disappear from it. The day before senior year started, I walked into the house to my mom frantically packing boxes. After two years of trying desperately to get us back to Naperville, my dad had a new job there and we needed to leave later that day – in time for my brother to start his freshman year of high school in the morning. I can still feel myself hyperventilating between the kitchen table and the bay window, wedging myself metaphorically into that house during an epic meltdown. But, the family motto, though never stated, was clear: keep moving. Between ages 13 and 18, I went to five schools in five years and lived in even more houses. My reality was a microcosm of a broader psychological truth: that instability during formative years can shape how we see ourselves long after the packing tape is ripped off the last box. Other longterm studies have found similar links to lower life satisfaction. Beyond being more prone to depression, a study published in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology found that people who moved frequently as children tended to have lower life satisfaction and poorer psychological well-being as adults. The research, which followed over 7,000 American adults for 10 years, found a direct link between the number of childhood moves and lower reported well-being, even when accounting for other factors like age and education. In young adulthood, my instincts gravitated toward fierce friendships – the chosen family that defined my college years and early 20s. Earning an entry-level wage I expected impermanence in the big city, although while scraping together rent with my friends, my singular dream was a husband, kids, and the white picket fence I never claimed in youth. I was determined to affix myself to a permanent address. I married the first man who asked at age 29. I bought us a condo in 2007, six months before we got divorced and a minute before the infamous 'big short' caused the housing market to burst. Everyone had said real estate was a sure-fire investment for the long term, but living in my one-bedroom marital condo alone felt like PTSD. I eventually saved enough to sell in 2014, bringing money to the closing table just to get out of the 'investment' meant to be a stepping stone to suburbia. By the early 2000s, job transfers and economic instability had made geographic permanence feel almost quaint. Raised on the promise of 'Home Sweet Home,' my generation entered adulthood expecting sanctuary and instead dodged stereotypical landmines of economic precarity and unbalanced cognitive labor. According to Harvard's Joint Center for Housing Studies, homebuying rates for Gen X and older millennials have lagged behind previous generations, squeezed today by high interest rates and low desirable inventory. The dual-income household, framed as a pragmatic necessity, has metastasized into a common storyline on a TV series – one where home functions less as a haven and more as a finely-tuned productivity engine, but with an abundance of decorative throw pillows for aesthetics. It's not that the dream of the stable home disappeared – it just started charging an untenable monthly rent. In my mid-30s I faced the unstable market by renting a no-frills, fourth-floor walk-up whose memory still charms. My second husband wooed me away four years later, and this time to the state of nirvana I'd always wanted: the 'forever' home in the suburban cul-de-sac perfectly perched up on that hill. So, we overpaid, and I affixed his kids' artwork to the fridge with magnets that boasted 'Home Sweet Home' and 'family forever'. The marriage wouldn't last. Within three years the 'for sale' sign erected in the front yard would again be a marker that I failed to do the one thing in life I wanted more than anything: to stay. I didn't know how to pack the feeling of loss, so I took it with me after draining my savings account once more for an unfavorable sale to a new family. I inked a deal in 2018 on a condo in downtown Chicago, on the same street of my former favorite apartment. But the pandemic, losing my cat, getting laid off, and miscarrying the one successful pregnancy I ever had all within six months led me to sell the condo I had mortgaged at a sub-3% interest rate so I could lower my expenses. Today I live in a dark, garden-level apartment, contemplating what Sigmund Freud called 'repetition compulsion' – the tendency to unconsciously repeat traumatic events or patterns of behavior from the past even if they are unfulfilling. I seem to be pining for a life I can't materialize. It is my pre-move childhood: the stale smell of the rarely-washed couch blanket we all used, the sound of my friends bouncing a basketball on the driveway, the waft of cigarette smoke from the kitchen when my parents had their friends over for cards. If the walls had veins they'd pulse to the energy of pizza night, intermittent shouts of 'Uno!' and that indescribable chaos when the only thing that outnumbers the dishwasher cycles are the friends and neighbors stepping through the foyer. But every attempt to find this pulls me further away from settling into the present. I can't imagine how to create a happy life for myself without that feeling of family I've been trying to replicate. I've lost tens of thousands of dollars on real estate and even more in self-assurance. My body carries every goodbye out a minivan window more acutely than my conscious mind. If I do emotionally commit again to an address, it might be ripped away. I want to know that true belonging isn't a myth. I often wonder what affixing my restless energy to another permanent address will do to the animal living inside of me – all she knows how to do is advance! advance! advance! What if, like motherhood, I simply missed out on the American dream? Is home ownership another childhood entitlement I need to blow into an imaginary balloon and watch gently float above my open hand? As I face a housing market with low inventory at high prices and outrageous interest rates, I consider the paradox of my packing talent. It's easy for me to stow things away, but I need courage for an internal move – to fully unpack where I am right now and finally just build a life already.
The Sun
10 hours ago
- The Sun
Four savvy summer mealtime tactics to stop your youngsters swerving vegetables
SCHOOL'S out and fussy kids are home. If you have youngsters who like to swerve vegetables, it is time to be more cunning. 7 Camouflage carrots and conceal courgettes with these stealth summer mealtime tactics. RETURN OF THE MAC: Mac and cheese is a family favourite, but usually lacks any vitamin-packed vegetables. Give it a goodness upgrade by stirring cooked, pureed cauliflower into the cheese sauce. Invisible and ingenious, it makes the sauce even creamier. If you really want to push your luck, you could mash some roasted, pureed butternut squash into the cheese sauce, with or without the cauliflower. SOUPER IDEA: A lovely soup with a sweet edge can swing even the strongest anti-veg eaters. It is also a great way to use up leftover bits in the fridge. Cook up chunks of almost any vegetable including carrots, cabbage, tomatoes and peppers and add them to a saucepan of vegetable stock with two chopped potatoes and a can of sweetcorn. Once the veg is soft, whizz it up in a food mixer until smooth. Sieve it if you need to eliminate any last lumps. Add it back to the pan with a spoonful of cream or cream cheese. PASS THE PASTA: It is easy to hide a whole pile of vegetables in a pasta sauce. But greens, such as broccoli and spinach, will turn a tomato sauce brown so stick to red peppers, carrots and celery for stealth goodness. Add them when cooking the sauce, then puree at the end to make a delicious smooth topping. Make double to also use on sliced muffins topped with cheese as mini pizzas. MEAT AND FOUR VEG: Meaty sauces make it even easier for veggies to appear incognito. Whizz up carrot, pepper, celery, onion and garlic in a food mixer to make tiny pieces. Add them to a meaty bolognese sauce, made with mince and chopped tomatoes. Then add a tin of green lentils to the mixture. Everyone will gobble it up. All prices on page correct at time of going to press. Deals and offers subject to availability Deal of the day 7 PERFECT for a small space, the Jude oak effect ladder console dressing table is down from £450 to £199 in the clearance section at Cheap treat SAVE a space in your picnic bags for a pack of seven McVitie's Penguins, down from £1.86 to 98p at Asda. Top swap 7 7 TUCK into Belvita Soft Bakes Choc Chips cereal bars, £2.95 for a pack of five at Morrisons, or share out a box of Lidl's Crownfield chocolate chip soft bakes, £1.49. SAVE: £1.46 Shop & save TREAT yourself or a friend to the Katie Loxton Ooh La La pouch in store at John Lewis, down from £19.99 to £9.99. Hot right now PLAY NOW TO WIN £200 7 JOIN thousands of readers taking part in The Sun Raffle. Every month we're giving away £100 to 250 lucky readers - whether you're saving up or just in need of some extra cash, The Sun could have you covered. Every Sun Savers code entered equals one Raffle ticket. The more codes you enter, the more tickets you'll earn and the more chance you will have of winning!
Daily Mail
11 hours ago
- Daily Mail
Hero uncle drowned at waterfall spot whilst trying to rescue his two nieces, inquest hears
A hero uncle drowned at a beauty spot waterfall while trying to rescue his two nieces as they cooled off on a sunny day, an inquest heard. Mohananeethan Muruganantharajah, 27, known as Mohan, was on a family day out in the Brecon Beacons when the tragedy unfolded. An inquest heard the family were cooling off at the stunning Sgwd Y Pannwr waterfall in Ystradfellte, Wales on September 1, 2023 when they began to get into difficulty. Qualified pilot Mohan - who ran an off-licence in Swansea - rushed to help and heroically saved his two nieces from the water. But he was tragically dragged below the surface himself and was later found dead. Coroner Patricia Morgan said: 'The purpose of the visit was to walk and enjoy the scenery. 'When arriving at the waterfall, a number of members of his family decided to enter the water as the weather was pleasant. 'Due to a number of Mohananeethan's family getting into some difficulty, he assisted them to safety. However, sadly Mohananeethan was pulled under the water and did not resurface. Mohananeethan Muruganantharajah, 27, known as Mohan, (pictured) was on a family day out in the Brecon Beacons when the tragedy happened The family were cooling off at the stunning Sgwd Y Pannwr waterfall (pictured) when they began to struggle Mohan, a qualified pilot, heroically saved his two nieces from the water but was tragically dragged below the surface himself and was later found dead, an inquest heard 'Emergency services attended but were unable to rescue Mohananeethan. He was recovered from the water on Saturday, September 2, 2023, when he was declared deceased.' A previous hearing was told Sri Lankan-born Mohan had been dragged under the falls and became stuck below a ledge on September 2. Rescue teams were called but he could not be saved. Coroner Patricia Morgan returned a conclusion of accidental death. Mohan was located using underwater cameras but could not be recovered until the following morning. Friends paid tribute to the pilot, saying he 'touched so many lives'. A tribute from his badminton club in Swansea said: 'It is with heavy hearts that we announce the passing of our beloved Mohan. A tribute from Mohan's badminton club in Swansea said: 'He touched the lives of so many and brought warmth and love to all who knew him with his never-ending smile' The Sgwd Y Pannwr waterfall is popular with walkers and photographers for its cascading falls His family have called for more warning signs about the dangers the waterfall poses 'He touched the lives of so many and brought warmth and love to all who knew him with his never-ending smile. 'Thank you for your love, support, and compassion during this challenging time.' His family have called for more warning signs at the waterfall about the dangers the site poses. The Sgwd Y Pannwr waterfall is popular with walkers and photographers for its cascading falls dropping from almost 40ft high. It is also known as the 'Fall of the Fuller' and is situated on the Afon Mellte River.
