I’m an only child, and yes, I’ve heard all the stereotypes.
I grew up lonely because I didn’t have any siblings. I’m spoiled. I don’t know how to share. I’m bossy, introverted and difficult.
And yeah, I suppose many of us who are only children may fit some of those stereotypes.
For me, I wouldn’t necessarily call myself an introvert, but I’m not really an extrovert either, as I prefer to have one foot in each world. I don’t remember ever being lonely, as I’ve always been surrounded by friends, family and people I care about. Some may have called me spoiled as a child, while others would have said my childhood was pretty typical since being spoiled is all relative. As I’ve gotten older I’d say I’ve become more selfish with how I spend my time, but I think that’s just part of getting older and wiser and better knowing who you are and what you want to do and what you don’t want to do with your time.
I do remember when I was young, wishing I had an older brother, but that wish would always vanish whenever I’d go over to a friend’s house and see how their life was with an older brother around. No thanks!
Truth is, I never felt I was missing out on anything as an only child. I like to think I turned out just fine.
In late 2016, my coworker announced he was leaving our company. He and I worked closely together, as we were the only two editors in the office, and we had become good friends. I was heartbroken to see him leave, and worried about who would replace him.
My boss asked me to sit in with her on interviews for his replacement, and that’s when I met Kate. When she came in for the interview, I knew immediately we would be friends, and I probably did the most unprofessional thing I’ve ever done — I emailed her after the interview and told her I liked her necklace and told her I hoped she got the job despite it not being my decision to make.
Long story short: She got the job. And we immediately became the closest of friends.
Kate is also an only child. She and I have birthdays just days apart. We both grew up in Michigan. We both love the printed word, endurance sports and consider looking up menus of various restaurants on our phones top tier entertainment. We send each other funny videos every day. I bet if you were to print out our text thread from the past 10 years, it would reach around the earth multiple times.
Kate was one of my first phone calls when my husband was killed, she was waiting at my front door that night when I arrived back at my house and didn’t leave until the next day. She’s the first person I call when I have big news, or little news or just something funny to say.
Kate, who isn’t married and doesn’t have children, spends holidays with us. She sleeps over on Christmas Eve and we do gifts together in the morning before going to my dad’s in the afternoon. My dad considers Kate his other daughter and she shows up at the hospital when he has a health scare and sits with him when I cannot. Often, she and my dad go out to dinner, just the two of them. Kate’s mom lives several states away, and I would do the same with her if I could. Instead, Kate’s mom and I text each other and I send her gift cards on her birthday and for Mother’s Day, thanking her for giving birth to my “sister.” My son considers Kate his honorary aunt.
I know her Chipotle order by heart. She knows never to give me green candy until she knows for sure it’s not green apple flavor. She knows the door code for our house, where all the snacks are, and when we are out of town she takes care of our cats, eats said snacks and reads, watches television and takes naps. Our house is her second home. I do the same at her apartment when she’s away.
We go on family vacations together.
Kate and I often joke that we may be only children, but we truly are sisters at heart. We may not know what it feels like to have a sibling, but we know what it feels like to have found a platonic soulmate and well, for us that’s as close as we can get to being sisters.
I’ve written previously in this column about having to create your own family for whatever reason. Perhaps you live far away from your own, maybe you’re dealing with estrangement or sometimes personalities just clash. Maybe you’re an only child like me and Kate. Both of us know what it is like to have to create your own family.
It’s a lesson my own son — who is also an only child — has had to learn after the death of his father. He didn’t expect to have secondary losses in the form of other family members pulling away, but that’s just what happened.
Finding family, or creating a family where there wasn’t one, is a gift. And it’s certainly one that once you find it — sometimes in the most random of places like a job interview in a small conference room — you should never take it for granted.
Rachel Brougham is the former assistant editor of the Petoskey News-Review. You can email her at racheldbrougham@gmail.com.
This article originally appeared on The Petoskey News-Review: Finding family is truly a gift | Opinion
Reporting by Rachel Brougham, Community Columnist / The Petoskey News-Review
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