Solitary Musings: An Only Child's Reflective Journey
“Don’t you wish you had a sibling?” As a child, I was often asked this question.
Perplexed by the inquiry, I usually replied, “I’m not sure. I don’t think so.”
I couldn’t fathom why having a sibling would be so significant. My family was loving, and my cousins felt like siblings. Why would I want to change any of that?
My childhood, once filled with the love and attention of my parents, seemed complete. I believed nothing was missing in my small world.
At least, that’s what I thought until I grew older.
There are stereotypes about only children—we’re considered selfish, demanding, possessive, impulsive, and impatient. Society often views us as different and peculiar.
I recall an employer who initially hesitated to hire me because I was an only child. “You’ll be hard to work with,” he said, listing several reasons why only children supposedly are the hardest to deal with. Proving him wrong and becoming one of his favorite employees was a moment of pride.
The reality is that only children face heavy judgment, which is truly disheartening.
Beyond these judgments and labels, society overlooks an important truth about only children. One day, we will carry a burden that only those who are only children can truly understand.
We are often labeled as selfish and stubborn, yet we are destined to witness our parents age alone. So much for being “selfish,” right?
As children, we feel secure and protected by our healthy parents. But as we age, and our parents grow older, the pain begins. The once-protected child feels increasingly lonely and unsupported. Now, it’s our turn to provide love and attention to our aging parents.
Lacking siblings to share the concerns about aging parents brings a unique sadness and worry. Although we can share concerns with extended family, it’s not the same as having a sibling.
I recognize that some siblings don’t get along, and one may end up as the sole caregiver. In such cases, even people with siblings might feel like only children. To them, my message applies as well—they are also “only children” in my eyes.
Watching my parents struggle with simple tasks fills me with worry and panic. I understand the impermanence of things, a harsh lesson that I’ll never fully accept—I have no control over their lives.
The strong arms that once supported us are weakening. Eventually, only one pair of arms (the only child's) will support two aging parents. Life’s unfairness is stark as we age.
This is the burden of the only child.
Once labeled “selfish,” the only child now leads a double life. Balancing a new family (spouse and children) with the responsibility of caring for aging parents alone is challenging. Financial resources can ease this burden, but not everyone is so fortunate.
An only child must be prepared to become a parent to their parents if fate dictates. Cultural factors may influence the sense of duty to parents, but the suffering of an only child seeing their parents struggle without a support system is universal.
The only child knows that when their parents pass away, a significant part of their life goes with them. Memories shared with parents now belong to one person, creating a profound sense of disconnection and void. It’s a feeling that I’m not ready to face.
So, if you have a sibling, hug them now! You share a golden connection that only children often wish for.
When asked how many children I wanted, I said, “Either zero or two.” While I understand why parents choose to have only one child, I knew I wouldn’t want my child to grow up without a sibling.
If asked again, “Don’t you wish you had a sibling?” I’d answer, “Absolutely! You have no idea.”
Another sorrow for an only child is the absence of nephews and nieces. Extended family is wonderful, but the connection to a sibling’s child is unique. The love for a sibling’s child can be transformative, as I’ve heard from others.
Again, the only child misses out on this kind of love. The thought of my parents passing away, leaving me without anyone who shared their bond, is deeply saddening. I long for the siblings and the nieces and nephews I never had.
The purpose of this article is to urge you to view only children with compassion. Understand that we may battle between caregiving for our parents and feeling profoundly lonely. Even when we seem controlling, it might stem from fear.
Only children have many fears, often manifesting as over-controlling behavior. As we age, we may try to control things to avoid suffering. Making decisions alone, without our parents' support, can leave us feeling isolated and burdened. So, offer help to an only child instead of judgment. We rarely ask for help but deeply appreciate it.
To my fellow only children, I send my love. You are not completely alone. I admire your dedication to your parents and respect your efforts to make their final years special. You are heroes in my eyes.
Remember, you can’t control everything. While aging is unfair, it’s the cycle of life. Your parents appreciate your efforts but don’t want you to sacrifice yourself entirely.
An only child carries a heavy burden but must recognize their limits. It’s crucial to delegate and ask for help to avoid unnecessary strain.
Though an only child may feel lonely, we must remember our interconnectedness. Surround yourself with a community. Engage in inspiring causes and meet wonderful people.
Ultimately, we are one planet, one people, one soul. And you are not alone.
Originally published on Elephant Journal.