Only childI caught the American soap Brothers and Sisters on air the other day. It left me quite bemused with the workings of sibling relationships. And reflecting on a life without. Like mine. An only child, I often wonder how different I would have been as a person if I had brothers and sisters. They say China’s one child policy has bred a generation of ‘Little Emperors’, spoilt brats who are completely the focus of their parents’ attention. It is of course, a stereotype – the spoilt only child. But looking deep within, I wonder – do I fit the stereotype?
I do believe there are parts of me that are, only because I don’t have siblings. A certain selfishness at the core is one – the inability to share anything of personal value to me with people outside my parents and now, after years, my husband. Personal value of course is not really about money or material things like that (or at least I would like to believe). It’s more about things like personal space, attention, even to some extent love. I remember hating the possibility of my mother going to work because I would have to share her with others (an older me shudders at the injustice to my mom!). Or having to open up my room for guests whenever there were too many to accommodate in the guest room. Or having to share my precious books with friends who came home. And in more recent times, watching my husband bond with his brother on things I can hardly relate to (cars, phones and such like) can bring that old jealousy roaring back again. This is a certain kind of ‘spoilt’, I think.
Of course there are positives too, I would like to believe. One of which is an uncommon comfort in my own company. I don’t think of myself as an introvert – I have a decent-sized set of people I call friends and I love their company most of the time. But solitude does not scare me; in fact, I look forward to time alone. It stems from all those hours in childhood spent alone in my room, daydreaming, reading, role playing.
The flip side of course, is impatience with too much company. There are times when long periods of time spent with people, even if they are family and friends, irritate me. It is again a kind of selfishness, but I need the alone time. This is something very few people understand. It's one of the reasons spending more than a week in my hometown makes me go mad – I can’t deal with the constant family get-togethers for weddings, births and deaths. I would much rather shut myself up in my room and read a book.
That’s me, for good or for bad. There are times when I wish I had a sister or a brother to take some of the expectations off me. But these are really few and far between. I like being an only child. And I can always watch Brothers and Sisters for a peep into the world of people with siblings.
