Growing up a twin is hard. Not physically but emotionally. The phrase “not everything a competition” has been pounded into my head since I was 6 years old. Because at 6 years old I realized I’ll never be show attention and praised like Wyatt.
My twin brother Wyatt Noah James, golden boy, amazing basketball player, and my parent’s favorite. Wyatt was born 20 minutes older than me. He came out at 10 pounds and 9 ounces. Opposed to me who came out at 4 pounds and 2 ounces. My parents were told I was going to be a boy, so when I came out a girl they were shocked to say the least. They named me Brielle Cameron James.
We were a wealthy family. Both of my parents came from money, my father being the CEO of James incorporated. And my mother being a typical trophy wife. My father Richie James, and my mother Luna James. They were in a marriage neither wanted to be in.
At 18 I was a fantastic fashion designer. I got into a fashion school in France but my parents wouldn't cover the tuition because it was a “disgrace” to my family not to go to Boston University. But they let Wyatt go to L.A, for college because it would help him get drafted to the NBA. I talked them into letting me go to France for a year of schooling then finish the rest in Boston. They were pissed when I told them I wouldn't give up my major for business. So that puts me at today being in first class on a plane to Boston.