The Only Child

I'm the oldest and the youngest of my parent's children. I'm the favorite and the most disappointing. I'm the best and the worst. I'm the only one.

I never really started considering my life as an only child (i.e. my life) until fairly recently. Obviously, I've always been aware of it. When I was little I used to be very conscious of the fact that I had no siblings (and, after my parent's divorced, no prospects of siblings). I used to watch my cousins and my friends play (and often fight) with their sisters and brothers. They used to look so tortured. Part of me was glad that I never had to deal with a younger sister who was always trying to steal my clothes or an older brother who called me ugly. But that never stopped me from answering "a baby sister or a baby brother" everytime my parents asked me what I wanted for Christmas or my birthday. Only children are generally thought to be spoiled rotten, but I never got a younger sibling, no matter how much I begged for one.

I've resigned myself now to being an only child. My mom has gone through menopause, and my dad doesn't seem interested in taking care of any more babies (plus, after me, I'm sure he'd consider any other child a letdown :) Even if one of my parents married someone who had his or her own children, I live away from home now, so I still wouldn't have to share anything with them.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining. My life is fine. And the thing is, I don't know if I would be any happier with a sibling. How can I know that? People ask me "What's it like to be an only child?" I always respond the same way: by not responding. How can I answer that question? I met a girl a few weeks ago who is also an only child, and she quoted an author who said that asking an only child what it's like to be an only child is like asking a fish what it's like to breathe in water. The answer is--there is no answer. It's normal. I cannot tell you what it's like to be an only child because I cannot tell you what it's like to not be one.

I can tell you that the prevalent conceptions about only children in our society are often false--though not always. I know several only children who are bright, motivated, even-tempered, well-balanced, fair, compromising, open-minded individuals. (I like to consider myself one of those people). I also know only children who are spoiled, selfish, mean, lazy, uninspired, domineering, controlling, and impossible to work with. I maintain that this has little to do with the fact that they are only children and everything to do with the way in which they were raised.

But, by the same token, I'm also kind of glad that these misconceptions exist because when I was growing up, I was highly aware of them and, therefore, incredibly conscious of my behavior. I did not want to be a spoiled brat, and I assumed that since I was an only child, and people expected only children to be spoiled, I had a greater chance of ending up rotten if I didn't take the precautions to avoid it. So I did. I remember actually asking my mother once, "Am I spoiled?" She looked at me lovingly and, perhaps, a little worryingly and said, "No, honey. Of course not. Why would you ask that." "Because I don't want to be," I answered.

I don't deny that being an only child helped shape the person I am today. My parents were able to give me more support, attention, and opportunities because they didn't need to split their time and resources between several kids. I was also allowed a certain amount of solitude since both of my parents worked full-time, and I was often left to entertain myself. I developed a love of reading, and now I work in book publishing. This isn't to say I would've been illiterate otherwise, but I probably would've read a few less books if I'd had a younger brother or sister to pester instead.

The other thing I've only begun to consider recently is how my parents' divorce affected me. I only bring this up because I believe that the impact of my parents divorce has been exacerbated by the fact that, seeing that I have no siblings, I am the only child who had to go through my parents divorce.

I don't remember this bothering me when I was younger. But, since I've become an adult, both of my parents have become more open with me about their relationship with one another. I find myself (quite unsurprisingly) hearing two sides of each story. This is, obviously, typical, but it's especially frustrating for me because I feel I have no one to commiserate with. If I talk to other family members about it, they'll take the side of whoever they're related to. If I talk to my friends, they can't really understand the dynamic because they don't know my parents the way I do. At these times, I really wish there was someone in the world who had shared that experience with me. Someone who had the same perspective and could help me deal with things when they got rough. But it's fine. I've managed. I'm the only child of Bill and Deb Carey, and that's just one thing that makes me more unique.