Synopsis:
For most of my life, I felt like something was wrong – like I was living with a shadow I couldn’t see, a weight I couldn’t name. My childhood was marked by fear, confusion, and memories that never quite fit together. I knew there were pieces missing, but I never expected the truth to be more terrifying than my worst nightmares.
This is my story. A journey through trauma, survival, and the battle to reclaim my own mind. It’s about the ghosts of the past that never stopped whispering, the questions no one wanted to answer, and the slow unravelling of a reality I had been forced to forget.
Told with raw honesty, The Boy with the Thorn in His Side is not just an account of what happened to me – it’s a testament to resilience, a fight for acceptance, and a message to anyone who has ever felt trapped by their own past.
Sometimes, the truth is the hardest thing to face. But in facing it, we find the strength to break free.
Favorite Lines:
“We were haunted by old ghosts that were just too painful to talk about. It was like an elephant in the room for years when we were together…”
“Like a new green leaf on a tree just gets used to its summer conditions, then it slowly starts to turn to brown with autumn.”
My Opinion:
I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.
Some memoirs feel like quiet confessions, whispered to the reader. The Boy with the Thorn in His Side is not one of those books. Instead, it’s raw, unflinching, and at times gut-punchingly vivid. Robson does not dress up the past or soften the edges—he walks you straight back into his childhood home, sits you down in the living room, and makes you face the darkness right along with him.
What struck me most was the honesty. There’s no attempt to make himself the “perfect survivor” or to tie everything up neatly with a bow. The narrative moves between moments of fragile hope and crushing despair, often with dreamlike sequences that blur memory and trauma. At times it’s unsettling, but that’s what makes it powerful.
Robson’s gift is in the way he captures both the innocence of childhood and the corrosive impact of abuse, poverty, and instability. You feel his joy at football matches and music just as strongly as his dread when violence creeps into the home. It reminded me that memoir doesn’t have to be polished—it has to be true. And this one is brutally, achingly true.
This isn’t a light read. There are nights, addictions, betrayals, and moments of unbearable tension. But there’s also resilience, the bonds of brothers trying to survive together, and the long, slow path of healing. By the end, you feel not only the weight of Robson’s scars but also the strength it takes to write them down.
For readers who appreciate memoirs that don’t hide from the hard stuff—this belongs on your list.
Summary:
Overall, The Boy with the Thorn in His Side is a raw, unfiltered memoir of trauma, resilience, and healing. L. J. Robson takes you into the shadows of his childhood home, unafraid to expose the scars of abuse and the chaos of survival. It’s heavy, often heartbreaking, but threaded with moments of hope and honesty. A difficult yet rewarding read.