When most people think of an only child, they think of a spoiled brat. Everything is handed to them on a silver platter by their parents. They always get their way. They don’t have a sense of how to share or put others' needs before their own. Only children are isolated from the real world around them, trapped in a shiny bubble created by their parents whose worlds revolve around them. This is how society has labeled only children, but as an only child myself, I’d have to disagree. I have to be perfect all of the time because there is no other kid to earn their parents’ praise. No one else to succeed in academics, sports, or extracurriculars. It all falls on me. I have to be the golden child because I’m the only child.

Growing up, Christmas mornings were pretty quiet. I remember specifically the day when I got my Barbie Dreamhouse. It was in my old, one-story house, back in about 2014. I woke up so excited to see what Santa had brought. I walked into my huge playroom, and when I laid my eyes on the pink, gorgeous house, I ran to it straight away. My parents watched with warm smiles on their faces. After admiring my dreamhouse, I opened my other presents, noticing how quiet it was. There was no hustle and bustle, no fighting for presents that were addressed to my nonexistent sibling, or arguing about who got to play with what first. It was just me.

At this point in time, my little cousin hadn’t been born yet. So, when I went to my great-grandmother’s house later that day to celebrate with the rest of the family, I was all alone yet again. I sat at the dinner table, trying to listen to the conversation but not fully understanding what the adults were talking about. I never understood the concept of a “kids' table” that was talked about in school. Looking back on this lonely Christmas dinner, I do miss it. It reminds me of a simpler time in my life when I didn’t have real problems to worry about. However, I never want to relive that feeling of isolation, even though I was surrounded by people I loved.

After that Christmas, and as I grew older, I started realizing some of the scary things about being an only child. I’m going to face going into the world alone. No one will be trying to get their footing in the real world while I am, too. And I especially worry about what is going to happen when my parents pass away. Who am I going to lean on? I am going to have to deal with parental loss all alone, and that terrifies me. When I grow old, I won’t have a sibling to help me remember all of the fun memories of childhood; those memories will just be lost.

Although those thoughts still terrify me, I can now understand them with the reassurance that I will be okay. I have my cousin by my side, and I have the relationships that I’ve built over time. I have so many friends who are like sisters to me. However, it still isn’t the same, but as much as I thought I longed for that sibling bond, I’ve learned that it isn’t something I need. As I look back on memories like that Christmas morning, I see how far I have come. Over time, I realized how happy I am to be an only child, and it has allowed me to have a bond with my parents that is stronger than steel. As far as being alone goes, there are so many souls on this earth that will always be there for me, so although I don’t have any siblings, I’m not really alone.

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