“Are you telling me this because you want to study for your exam? It’s not like you are 11.”

This was my school’s safeguarding officer’s scathing assessment of me, a 17-year-old disclosing that I was struggling with supporting their mum who has mental health difficulties.

What hurt the most was that he was kind of right. I only wanted to revise distraction free, and I wasn’t 11 so perhaps cooking, cleaning, collecting medication and contacting the Department of Work and Pensions wasn’t deep enough to warrant a chat with a child protection professional.

This interaction has shaped the complex relationship I have with my role in my family. Was I a young carer? Watching Children in Need as a child and feeling sympathy for ‘real’ young carers made me think there is a world that separates theirs and mine. I was not showering my mum. I was safe at home, not exposed to violence, and as a child of immigrant parents, reading letters from the council was not unusual.