Recently, one of my coworkers asked me if I was happy to be an only child. She has a 2-year-old and has been discussing with her husband if they should have another kid. Growing up, I always hated being an only child, but as I reflected back on my childhood, I reached the conclusion I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

I never had to fight for my parent's attention growing up, but on the other hand, I could never escape their attention. As an only child, it was just me. There were no other children I could place the blame on if something in the house broken, there wasn't anyone I could divvy up chores with, and there wasn't anyone hogging my parent's attention from helping me with homework or tucking me in at night.

When I tell people I am an only child, typically I get one of two responses: "Oh my god, you are so lucky," or "Wow, that must have been so lonely." Truthfully, both are accurate statements. I am lucky. My parents didn't compare me to anyone; it was my sole responsibility to be a great kid. It was however lonely at times, and when I was younger, I wished every night for a sibling.

Today, I am thrilled to be an only child. I have the utmost appreciation for both my mom and dad and am convinced I would not be as successful as I am today if I had a sibling. However, growing up as an only child was incredibly lonely, and out of all my elementary school friends, I was the only one without a sibling.

My parents were together 15 years before I was born. They often joke they could be grandparents by now, but the blame is entirely on them for waiting so long to have me. I am half convinced I have an older brother running around somewhere, but they have both ensured me that is not the case.

Growing up, my house was lonely. I became an expert at keeping myself occupied though Barbies or blocks or crafts, and my parents were excellent sports when I was through with playing by myself. Then my mom got sick, and to cope, I had several imaginary brothers and sisters. Looking back, I am not sure why I chose this was a coping mechanism, but it was clear that imaginary siblings were the only ones I would ever have.

Instead, my parents got me a dog, and she was truly the greatest thing ever to happen. She let me dress her up, but her in a baby carriage and when I got older, became my confidant. If I had a sibling, we would not have gotten our family god, Tilli, the greatest dog in the world (and I will go on record for this).

Having a learning disability, homework always took a significant amount of time. My parents would sit with me and help me whenever there was a problem, proof-read my essays, and quiz me before exams. They both took a hands-on approach to my learning, something I think many children with siblings do not experience. However, without any other children, I felt it was my job to be the best kid my parents could ask for. I volunteered, got all A's, and received college acceptances to over 16 schools. It was my job to make them proud parents.

Yes, there are stereotypes about only children: we are spoiled, can't share and mature too quickly. Although I would not go as far as to say "spoiled" my parents were able to provide for me, but it never went unnoticed. I never asked for anything, always happy and grateful for what I had. The best thing about being an only child is the relationship I developed with my parents, one I wouldn't change for anything in the world.