The other day, you came to us with smiles on your faces not showing any signs of doubt nor anxiety. For this reason, I can’t help but think that you haven’t thought about this enough. I wish someone had told my parents twelve years ago what I’m about to tell you.

Nicolas is part of my family, but I’m not part of his. Growing up in an orphanage, Nicolas quickly learned that in life you are alone. He was used to seeing people go. First, his parents, and then the nurses who left home after their shift. During five years, Nicolas therefore protected himself and did not get attached to people around him. They, the multiple therapists that my parents and Nicolas met, now call it attachment disorder.

Nicolas lives in our home as if he were in a hotel. He wakes up and has breakfast, not asking whether my mom and I slept well. He simply mutters a “good morning” and occasionally asks us to pass him the milk. He then leaves for work as an apprentice where he is appreciated as he “works hard, makes jokes, and talks very openly.” When hearing this feedback from the chef, my mom’s stomach tightens wishing he behaved this way at home. Coming home from work, he passively watches television. At the dinner table, we ask him what he had for lunch waiting for the usual “I can’t remember” or “pasta”.

Nicolas was never able to do well in school academically, he had to redo many years of his education as he was not able to follow what was taught. I remember the day when my parents realised that this twelve year old boy was not able to understand nor memorize multiplication tables. Although this is not a major problem in itself, it became an issue when my mom tried to calmly revisit concepts with him at home, but her anger and tears marked the end of the sessions. Nicolas was not cooperative in any way, he sat there in silence.

Nicolas is very easily influenced by others. He doesn’t think for himself, but follows the crowd and does what he’s told. Therefore, Nicolas’ classmates who realise that he is an easy target use him to their benefit. Sadly, this somewhat explains why Nicolas’s belongings are repeatedly stolen and later on reappear. Or why he is the one buying alcohol for his friends during the lunch break. When we ask him why he would want to spend all his money this way, he mutters his usual “I don’t know”.

Nicolas’ ability to steal and lie without any emotional interference is what scares me the most. Although he repeatedly stole from my parent’s and my own wallet, Leila’s story, a hardworking cleaning lady that never came back to our home, is a frightening demonstration of Nicolas’ capabilities. A month ago, Nicolas found himself alone at home with Leila who trustfully left her bag at the entrance. When having to leave, my mom came back just in time for the embarrassing scene. Leila had noticed that a hundred euros had gone missing from her wallet and she was furious. My mom, trying to keep her calm, asked Nicolas if he had taken the money. His denial sparked Leila’s fury and she barged into his room telling him to give her back the money. “I work hard for this money! I feed my family with this! Give it back to me!” But of course, Nicolas denied having taken the money and was angered by her accusations. Twenty minutes later, my mom, embarrassed, apologized and gave Leila a hundred euros. I only came home hours later to find my mom crying out tears of rage.

Nicolas still denies having stolen this money, and the worst part of it all is that we will never know whether he did it or not. However, to this day my mom finds herself tormented. As a parent, do you accuse your child of having stolen the money or do you question the hardworking lady’s honesty? She is well aware that Nicolas is a great liar who would not feel guilty about stealing from a poor lady’s bag, but Nicolas is her child and she therefore can’t keep herself from hesitating.

Nicolas used to upset me when I was younger. Not because he was never able to give me a kiss nor a hug like my other siblings would, but because I thought my parents were being harder on him than they were on my three other siblings. At the time, I felt bad for my little brother. But I now understand where my parents are coming from and realise that our relationship is not reciprocal. I’m now numb to his distant and passive behaviour and look forward to the days where he works on the night shift so that I can enjoy a lovely dinner with my mom.

Nicolas was the source of many conflicts in our family and I sometimes wonder whether he has brought us more happiness than pain. And so this is why I hope you thought more than twice about this. As parents, you have to be ready to give a lot, but you cannot expect anything in return. Know this: accepting a child into your family doesn’t mean you will become part of his and that love is not always reciprocal.