Being the ninth child is a paradox. You arrive in a world already full of teenagers discovering sex, drugs, and Led Zeppelin. I felt like a germ. So I asked: How can I be better than all of you?
My siblings were a cast of characters.
The oldest brother – Richard – they called him Dick. He hated it. Especially in his bad moments. He only told me this in recent years and I can see now that the other brothers took the piss out of him constantly. (Sorry, Dick.)
Martin was my favourite caddie. He caddied for me at Paraparaumu. We won. Then I got drunk with all my mates who played as well. People kept buying us shots because we won and with Martin driving I drank more than I should've.
When we got home, Martin put me at the end of the car and said, "Stay there. I'm just gonna lock the car up."
I held onto the boot. Gravity took me. I went down.
Martin looked at the back of the car and saw that I had disappeared. He came around the corner and found my head in a puddle, blowing bubbles.
He pulled me out. Tried to get me straight to bed without the parents knowing. I remember he just dropped me on the bed and disappeared. Mum fixed me up. No yelling. Just a mother who chose care over her child star-fished on the bed trying to speak English.
That's my brother. That's my caddie. That's a win I'll never forget. Thanks bro x
Then came Maree. She punched me in the face. Dad said: "She's just not worth it."
He was right.
Peter and I had a wonderful relationship. I remember in our younger days he threw a tantrum throwing his arms around so I punched him and knocked him out. I thought he'd died. I shook him. "Peter!" He came to. I promised I would never hit a person again.
Then I went to a Motörhead concert. Lemmy growled. For two hours, I wasn't the ninth child – I was just a person in a crowd, loving something loud. That was mine. Not theirs.
I lost seven of them during the time of settling down back in NZ going through the same stuff before I left. And you know what? I am not sad. The view from number nine was chaos. But it taught me who I am and what I need to be free.