I remember when I was a kid, I wanted nothing more than to fit in with everybody else. I strived to find similarities between myself and my classmates- being different was a terrifying concept for me at the time. Of course, one of the main things that stuck out as unusual was my lack of siblings.
Growing up, I used to beg and plead for my parents to consider adopting another kid. My mom subscribed to Rosie O'Donnell's magazine (back when that was still a thing) and Rosie used to do a feature every month about different children around the country who needed to be adopted. I used to fold down the pages of potential family additions who caught my eye, and hand them to my parents- that was how hardcore I was about wanting a brother or sister.
Having other kids in the family just seemed so fun- I saw the idea of siblings as nothing more than constant playmates, friends who would always be there with me, and even just as figures who could get the attention off of me for a change with my parents. Of course, now that I've gotten older, I've realized how much being an only child is actually a very rare privilege. I grew up experiencing life a lot differently than most of my peers, and I'm so grateful for how I was raised. Rather than bring me up as a spoiled, entitled brat, my parents raised me to be an independent, confident, self-sufficient woman, and I love them for that.
About 20% of all children in the US are deemed 'only children'. However, this statistic also includes kids who grow up to have step and half- siblings. I like to consider myself a full-on, dedicated only child, seeing as, at the age of 21, I am literally the only child my parents have, and will ever, have. Fifty or so years ago, only children were a much less hot commodity. Back then, only children were often viewed as being hyper-dependent, spoiled, selfish, and immature. Even though that stereotype has died down a bit, it's sad to admit that through my life, I've met a few only children who have matched this description to a tee. It's all in the upbringing, and this is why I'm so lucky to have the parents I do.
When I was a kid, I was never told that things in life would be handed to me. I was never told that I was better, smarter, or prettier than all the rest. I was taught, both by gentle words and example, that life was harsh, and I had to be a fighter if I wanted to be successful in any aspect of my future. My parents wanted to give me the most amazing life they possibly could, but they also saw the beauty and the value in the principle of humility. From the start, they made me conscientious of world issues, the economy, politics, and social strife. When I was six years old, I was probably one of the only kids in the class who could actually tell you what the donkey and the elephant represented. Because I was solely around adults when I was with my family, and outside of school, I evolved into a mini-adult at a very young age.
My parents didn't plan to have an only daughter, but I'd like to think that they don't regret relying solely on me to carry on their legacy. That's another trait they instilled in me- accountability. I am the only daughter, and child, of Ed and Val Burns, and this is an honor within itself, as well as a responsibility to make them proud. I don't have other siblings to steal the spotlight from me, as much as I used to want that when I was younger. No one else's screw-ups matter except mine. However, this also means that my accomplishments are also recognized by my parents fully and whole-heartedly. I've worked my tail off in school to make them proud, and I've pursued a lot of my outside activities to try to emulate them.
However, I'm lucky to have parents who give me freedom. When I moved from New Jersey to Charleston, a lot of people asked me how I could possibly have done so, seeing as I'm an only child. How could I possibly leave my parents to move 13 hours away to a brand new city? Well, because they wanted me to. Because they knew it was what would make me the happiest, and it was where I would thrive the most. They've never tried to force me into doing things I didn't want, or pursuing a life without passion. Sure, they've encouraged me to try things I may not have necessarily enjoyed, but I've come out a stronger person for it. At the end of the day, they're my biggest supporters because they give me freedom to live my life how I want to live it.
While this article was originally supposed to be only focused on living life as an only child, it gradually evolved into an appreciation piece to my parents as well. Just like being an only child is part of my identity, my parents are too. I'm so blessed to have been raised to defy the stereotype of only child syndrome, and to have parents as fulfilling and encouraging as mine.
