Hellooo everyone! Thank you for taking the time to read this. My name is Emily, and I currently live in Brighton, around 125 miles from Suffolk, where my mum, dad, and sister, Kate, still live. I usually see my parents about once every three months and my sister about twice a year. Honestly, one of the only reasons I still have Facebook is for the odd message we send each other.
Kate had a complicated birth, and her life has been shaped by chronic illness due to oesophageal complications. In her late teenage years, she had to get a feeding tube because eating became too painful and dangerous. These health challenges, paired with the usual sibling squabbles, made our relationship quite strained growing up and left us quite distant. Kate was often angry about being physically ill, especially since I wasn’t, and sometimes blamed me for her mental health struggles.
Navigating this as a child was incredibly difficult. I often felt like I was walking on eggshells and that my voice didn’t carry much weight in the family dynamic. Being naturally more reserved, I rarely felt there was space for me to speak. This carried over to other areas of my life, like school. For a long time, it didn’t even occur to me that my voice had value or that I could express opinions. Problems that might have been easily solved if I’d spoken up often lingered, exacerbating my anxieties.
When I was younger, Mum had to focus heavily on Kate’s health, and Dad’s demanding job as a head teacher kept him busy. As a result, I was often passed between neighbours and relatives when extra support was needed. Because of this, I often felt like a nuisance and like I lacked autonomy over my own life. I did things out of convenience for others.
That started to change when I was around 9 or 10 and made some close friends. Having a space where I could laugh, share interests, and express my own opinions made all the difference. This early experience taught me the importance of friendships, and I strive to be a loyal and supportive friend to this day.
As I grew older, I began developing hobbies and passions like photography, art, baking, and film. These interests gave me a creative outlet and a stronger sense of identity. They were activities I could enjoy on my own, but it was always special when Mum or Dad joined in. Looking back, I think these interests helped shape me into a more empathetic and curious person.
One thing I’m deeply grateful for is how much my parents trusted me to be independent. When I was old enough, I had free realm, or at least as much freedom as you can have in a rural village! That trust gave me the skills and confidence to move away from home with ease when the time came.
If I were to give advice to another sibling, it would be to make sure you find your own identity through your friends and interests. You are your own person beyond your family, and you shouldn’t feel bad about that.
It’s also important to build your own community and connect with other siblings. I wish I’d known about Sibs when I was growing up, as just knowing there were others experiencing the same things would have meant so much. It could have helped me navigate my feelings with understanding rather than guilt.
I’ve explored these themes more deeply in a 52-page book I created, combining personal reflections, creative writing, and needlework. It’s an honest look at how being a sibling of someone with chronic illness has shaped me and how creative projects have helped me process these experiences.
I hope it resonates with other siblings or anyone curious about these dynamics. If that sounds interesting, feel free to check it out!
You can also find me at www.emilyrobbins.co.uk or on Instagram at @wmilywobbins or at, come say hi!
Emily’s book “Sorry to everyone who has it worse” can be purchased here for the discounted price of £7 for siblings of disabled people (usual price £10).