There is a reason I can be clingy. This may be towards a best friend, or maybe she’s not the best friend, but it’s all I got. It may be towards parents; yes, there is a reason I have such radical relationships with them. For me at least, I tell my mother everything, every last detail, because I do not have a sister. I may often treat parents as some people would treat their siblings — like friends, or enemies, at any given moment. I am not proud of this. And parents are not your friends.
I’ve read all the articles telling me that I am more mature than my peers because I grew up around adults. Sure, but I didn’t. I grew up with the typical neighborhood kids, all of whom treated me like family, and that’s that. I do, however, notice a distinct difference in my personality when being compared to my friends with siblings. I am serious and highly sensitive. I am the only kid in the house, so therefore I take everything firsthand. I am the eldest and I take responsibility for my actions. I do not like messing up. I do not understand why people can be so mean to each other. Don’t get me wrong; nobody ever has it easy in a large family. I just don’t comprehend certain things the same way. While it’s much easier for a sister to blame her little brother for breaking that vase because she knows they’re stuck together for at least 10 more years, I have never thought of blaming someone else for my own actions.
I’m a spoiled brat. Yeah, I’ll admit to this one, I usually get what I want (which doesn’t mean I don’t work hard for it, but that’s a different story). I don’t speak for the other only-children, but I certainly do not take rejection well. This is where my “highly-sensitive” side kicks in. That snide comment your sister snapped at you earlier definitely hurts. There’s no denying or justifying that. But come a day, or even a couple hours, you’re either arguing with her about something else, or laughing at some video on the internet. The point is: that comment is irrelevant among other things. I tend to over think a bit when it comes to things like that.
Comments and dirty looks circulate my mind for hours until I confide in a friend or my mother. I need to be assured that I am not alone. That’s the other thing — the loneliness. It sucks sometimes, even more than sometimes, but that’s what friends are for, right? But friends aren’t forever. Nothing is forever, including siblings and parents and spouses and whatnot. And this is what I think about daily. I must find things to fill my time; this might be the reason why I have such an obsessive personality.
So as an only child, I am very happy with my parents and my friends and my lifestyle in general. I do not beg sympathy from all you whom reside in big families. I just want some familiarity between you and me, and for you to know how much the little things mean to us.