Is Being An Only Child Really So Lonely?

Yes, that’s me. I’m an only child. I grew up without siblings. I also grew up in a town a great distance away from my cousins, a few of whom I have still never met in person. It was a solitary existence. However, it was not a lonely existence. I used to create an entire world in that wonderful thing called my “imagination”. For kids today, the notion of using one’s imagination to ward off boredom is a virtual solitary confinement sentencing…worse than eating live snails…proof of depravity.  I’ve spent the past several years trying to dig deep to find some sympathy for today’s kiddos, and I just can’t bring myself to shed even one tear for their plight.

You’re never too old to learn something new…and in my case, learn it again because I’m sure I knew it at some point and forgot it. So, I recently learned about a condition called “Only Child Syndrome”. About a century ago, some psychologists concluded that most children who grow up without siblings share some common traits. Behold, the lovely list:

—Lonely

—Spoiled

—High sense of independence

—Poor social skills

—High achievers

—Highly sensitive to criticism

At first glance, I immediately wanted to dismiss this list as psycho-dribble, but my sense of self convinced me there is a large element of truth in this list. Allow me to reflect on my own experience growing up as an only child and now as a parent of multiple offspring in a comparison/contrast.

Lonely—I can say with certainty that I enjoyed spending time alone, just me and my imagination. In the almost 50 years of my life, if I were to squish all of my lonely time together, it would probably amount to about a week.

Spoiled—Not really. I mean, I was the only kid in the house, so I was the only one getting Christmas presents, but I would not classify that as being spoiled. We were too poor for me to be spoiled. I didn’t own a Sit N Spin until I was an adult, and I never owned a Cabbage Patch doll. When I was a teenager, money wasn’t quite as tight, but I wasn’t driving a new car and didn’t have a television or a stereo in my room. I don’t know of another definition of spoiled besides an accumulation of material things, so I wouldn’t have classified myself as spoiled.

High sense of independence—This one rings very true. It has only been recently that I have limited myself physically to the point where I wait for someone to assist me with a big job I shouldn’t be doing alone. When I lived in Turkey, I wanted to move all of my office furniture around, and I was sitting on the floor, pushing furniture with my feet and my back against the wall for leverage. I did a lot of online schooling for my bachelors and masters degrees, and I loathed “group projects”. When my grade depends on the input of other people, it is infuriating. On the flip side, however, I do enjoy spending time with friends and family. I like playing volleyball. 

Poor social skills—Probably accurate. I’m not extremely socially awkward…just a little. I don’t make it a habit to approach strangers and talk to them or plan parties or dote over babies. I’ve been accused of being “unapproachable” by some of my kids’ friends. I call it “deep in thought”.

High achievers—Speaking only for myself, imposing of the impossible standard of perfection on myself keeps me driven (however misguided this may be) to always have to be getting another degree, another certification, another title. I freely admit to suffering from “imposter syndrome”. I always feel like I am not doing enough to deserve my pay (undervaluing my contributions). All the years I devoted to earning my degrees still don’t feel like I really earned them. Of course, I know I did earn them.

Highly sensitive to criticism—Sometimes I can be sensitive to criticism, but my sensitivity is directly proportional to how egotistical the source of the criticism is. In times like those, my therapist told me to just imagine them handing me wads of cash to listen to them while I’m on the clock. (Teehee)

I grew up an only child, but now I am a mom of three. I have, on occasion, had to ask my husband (who grew up with many siblings and cousins around), “is this normal?” because I didn’t grow up with boys in the house. Usually, the answer is “yes”, and I retreat to a room away from the chaos to enjoy my solitude.