A Look At An Only Child
*Whew…this is a long one written over several days
In a continued effort to understand myself, I keep researching different angles of where my tendencies towards self-harm and perfectionism came from. As mentioned before, I am adopted. That, in and of itself, creates a unique environment. However, I am also an only child. Those two characteristics together have added to my rather unique personality.
Growing up, I can remember always being told I was “special.” This special sentiment not only came from the fact I was an only child, but also adopted. I was the child my parents finally received after 14 years of marriage. I was the child they could pour all of their love into after waiting for so long. I was born directly on Thanksgiving and officially received by my parents 2 days before Christmas of that same year. They called me their holiday baby. I also came at a time when my mom’s dad was suffering through chemo treatments for larynx cancer. My parents, at that time lived close to my mom’s folks so my presence gave my grandpa something to live for. I was also the baby out of 14 first-cousins.
From an early age, I am told I was inquisitive, alert, affectionate and friendly. Strangers did not exist in my world. I remember long periods of being alone. While I was very involved in the communities my parents introduced me to (i.e. church, school, sports, music, etc…), I needed and craved alone time. In between activities and on weekends, I would spend hours in my room and large walk in closet creating my own fantasy worlds. I remember HATING to be disturbed. On occasion, I would invite my mom to play a game with me or beg her to listen to me sing or play the piano. However, if she intruded during my alone time, I would get angry.
I accompanied my mom to her activities within her own peer age group. I learned to converse with adults at a very young age and feel very comfortable with those viewed as traditional authority figures. While I was friendly with my own age group, I remember often feeling out of place with them and instead preferring to talk to my teachers or my mom’s friends. At the small, private school I attended in elementary school, I became known as a teacher’s pet. Teachers often relied on me to help them grade papers, make new students feel comfortable and speak with prospective student’s parents about my experiences at the school. I was described as extremely conscientious, driven, responsible, and outgoing yet with a terrible streak of impatience and stubbornness.
In my research, I found that only children typically feel as though they do not relate to their own peer group. “The typical only child has the striving characteristics of the first-born child and the inadequacy feelings and demands of the youngest child. As children, they usually want to be adults as they do not relate to peers very well. When only children become adults, they often believe they've finally "made it" and can now relate better to adults as peers.” I can certainly relate to that statement as I always felt at odds with my own age. I gravitated towards students a few years older than me, but also to students in grades younger than me taking on, perhaps, a mentoring, “older sibling” relationship. Maybe a sense of wanting to impart pieces of myself on others since I did not have a younger sibling.
In addition to the expectations placed on my, probably unconsciously, by my parents coupled with the fact that I was the “special” adopted child, I also went to a private “college preparatory” school in my younger elementary years. I was taught to excel and achieve at a very young age. Parents of students at my school were discouraged from helping their child with their studies too much but instead to encourage us to rely on ourselves and problem solve. I cannot recall very many instances where my parents assisted or even helped me with my homework. I learned to be an extremely independent thinker and problem solver. Placed in advance classes from 1st grade on, I surrounded myself with high achievers where anything less than perfection was frowned upon. While I am sure my parents never meant to instill “perfectionism,” they did require that I do my best at everything. My best was almost always at a higher level. Thus, from a young age, I required perfection from myself. I not only required myself to get an A, but to outscore everyone else in my class.
I recall in 2nd grade a competition that the teachers had for a math award. We took time-table tests in addition, subtraction, multiplication and division. We were given one minute to solve 60 of each kind of math and do it correctly. These tests were administered over a period several weeks with each test getting progressively more difficult. The first person to pass all tests ahead of everyone else, was the winner. I was determined to be that winner. And, I did it. I can remember extreme joy and pride in beating 50 other 2nd graders (guys and girls) at this contest. That trend of being at the top continued most of my young years.
However, the years of achievement and requiring so much out of myself came at a toll. I would get increasingly frustrated if I could not be at the top, beating out everyone else to be first. If I couldn’t be the best, sometimes I would just not try or I would self-sabotage so I would have an excuse or an out for not being perfect. This led to bouts with extremely high achievements followed by periods of procrastination and quitting activities. I found a bit of an article that echoed this sentiment. “The only child will receive all of their expectations from their parents rather than both parents and siblings. Because of this, many only children are in danger of acquiring perfectionistic or people-pleasing behaviors. On a more optimistic note, proponents of birth order theory state that only children tend to be quite confident, diligent and mature. Not all only children are over-achievers, but even the most laid-back only child is clearly guided by a need to do the right thing and strives to make a difference in society.”
Many of my “only-childness” and perfectionist characteristics caused problems in my high school years. I developed a group of friends who were, often times, very high achievers themselves. Surrounding yourself with competition of that nature can lead to many joys and many sorrows. I already had a very difficult time relating to people in my own age group. I took to making friends with many different “groups” that ranged from academic nerds (Extended Learning Program anyone?) to the popular jocks and everything in between like the choir and drama folks as well as the middle-road B-group. That way, I could vary my time and not have to get too close to any one group and avoid having a label. I also valued my alone time to an almost ridiculous degree. However, as illustrated by the next quote, many other only children feel the same way. Said one adult only child, "Possibly the best part was developing the ability to enjoy being alone and to entertain myself. I've always had plenty of friends, yet people are surprised by how much of a loner I can be" I enjoyed going out in groups, but also equally enjoyed a night to myself reading a book or going and sitting in a coffee shop by myself to write.
My parents, wisely on their part, prohibited me from dating until I was 16 and instead encouraged me to develop friendships with both sexes in group environments. When I was 16½, I began slowly dating the guy that would be become my future husband. He was a year older than me and involved in choir. That is how we met: making pizzas for a choir fundraiser. I had actually met him briefly before. Being the super-friendly personality I was, I marched over to introduce myself to him because he was one of the few people I had not talked to within my choir world. He would tell me later that he had been enchanted by my smile and friendliness.
His home-life would eventually upset my world and change my outlook on myself and how I was supposed to relate to people. My husband is a middle child in a divorced family, but the oldest boy. During the divorce and after, he became the mediator and peacekeeper of the family. All three siblings were, in their own ways, traumatized by the divorce and the woman their father would take as his second wife. It caused each of the three to develop and act out in their own unique way. His older sister and mother would take an instant dislike to me. I represented everything that their family did not have; a stable home environment, plenty of money, attention, and self-esteem. They took every opportunity to cut into my sense of well-being. My boyfriend/husband did what he always did and tried to maintain the peace instead of taking sides or defending me in any way. Of course, that led to me thinking that something was wrong with me. Plus, I just didn’t understand why they had such a difficult time liking me. I never had to work so hard for acceptance.
When I got to college, I encountered the same difficulty. For the first time, I encountered serious difficulty in finding anyone with whom I could relate. I attended a very small, private college. I convinced myself that I chose this college based on its academics, music program and the fact I received a healthy scholarship, but in truth, I went there to follow my boyfriend who had started there one year prior. I thought I could fit into small town life and excel in a relatively small group of people. While I did excel academically, I did not excel at relationships. I had been built up from a young age to always look forward to college because that is where I would finally find peace in my environment. It would be this magical place where I would finally fit in and find peers that I could relate to. Hahahahaha. Was that ever wrong! Well, I suppose it could have been that way had I actually gone to where I wanted to go and where I knew I would best fit in instead of trying to force a fit that wasn’t there. It’s like having a size 10 foot and trying to squeeze it into a size 6 shoe. It doesn’t work. And I didn’t work at this college. However, I saw the fact that I didn’t fit in there as a failure on my part instead of looking at it for what it was. As a person that refuses to admit failure, I continued to push to make it work. To compensate for my growing dissatisfaction, I began using throwing up as a means to rid my mind of negative feelings. I learned that people didn’t want to help me or hear about my problems so I found a way to cope.
My other means of coping included taking up a flurry of activities and excelling at my studies. I flitted around from group to group until I found a few friends I could connect to. My friends changed from year to year as did my roommates. I finally decided that I did not want to finish out four years and to crown my perfectionism, I would graduate with a double major in three years. All of my friends were a year older than me and I didn’t want to be there any longer than necessary. My advanced placement test scores, CLEP scores and the fact I could balance 5-6 classes at a time as well as a part-time job, tutoring, choir, etc… helped me accomplish this and stay extremely busy. During this period I also got engaged, planned a wedding, graduated, interned at a major corporation, got a job with said corporation and then got married. It is enough to make my head spin even now. All of this in attempt to feel at the top of perfection again since, in my eyes, I had failed at so much.
From “special” adopted and only child baby to dissatisfied perfectionist adult; it has been quite the journey. I do not pretend to speak for all only children experiences, for other adoptees or for those like me that are both adopted and only-children. I’m sure my environment, the biological pieces that I know little about, plus my own choices in the circumstances life has handed me thus far has shaped me into this woman who is trying to understand who she is and why she has done and continues to do what she does. I’d be interested if any other only children who might happen to read this think about some of my thoughts and experiences and whether there are any similarities.
In a continued effort to understand myself, I keep researching different angles of where my tendencies towards self-harm and perfectionism came from. As mentioned before, I am adopted. That, in and of itself, creates a unique environment. However, I am also an only child. Those two characteristics together have added to my rather unique personality.
Growing up, I can remember always being told I was “special.” This special sentiment not only came from the fact I was an only child, but also adopted. I was the child my parents finally received after 14 years of marriage. I was the child they could pour all of their love into after waiting for so long. I was born directly on Thanksgiving and officially received by my parents 2 days before Christmas of that same year. They called me their holiday baby. I also came at a time when my mom’s dad was suffering through chemo treatments for larynx cancer. My parents, at that time lived close to my mom’s folks so my presence gave my grandpa something to live for. I was also the baby out of 14 first-cousins.
From an early age, I am told I was inquisitive, alert, affectionate and friendly. Strangers did not exist in my world. I remember long periods of being alone. While I was very involved in the communities my parents introduced me to (i.e. church, school, sports, music, etc…), I needed and craved alone time. In between activities and on weekends, I would spend hours in my room and large walk in closet creating my own fantasy worlds. I remember HATING to be disturbed. On occasion, I would invite my mom to play a game with me or beg her to listen to me sing or play the piano. However, if she intruded during my alone time, I would get angry.
I accompanied my mom to her activities within her own peer age group. I learned to converse with adults at a very young age and feel very comfortable with those viewed as traditional authority figures. While I was friendly with my own age group, I remember often feeling out of place with them and instead preferring to talk to my teachers or my mom’s friends. At the small, private school I attended in elementary school, I became known as a teacher’s pet. Teachers often relied on me to help them grade papers, make new students feel comfortable and speak with prospective student’s parents about my experiences at the school. I was described as extremely conscientious, driven, responsible, and outgoing yet with a terrible streak of impatience and stubbornness.
In my research, I found that only children typically feel as though they do not relate to their own peer group. “The typical only child has the striving characteristics of the first-born child and the inadequacy feelings and demands of the youngest child. As children, they usually want to be adults as they do not relate to peers very well. When only children become adults, they often believe they've finally "made it" and can now relate better to adults as peers.” I can certainly relate to that statement as I always felt at odds with my own age. I gravitated towards students a few years older than me, but also to students in grades younger than me taking on, perhaps, a mentoring, “older sibling” relationship. Maybe a sense of wanting to impart pieces of myself on others since I did not have a younger sibling.
In addition to the expectations placed on my, probably unconsciously, by my parents coupled with the fact that I was the “special” adopted child, I also went to a private “college preparatory” school in my younger elementary years. I was taught to excel and achieve at a very young age. Parents of students at my school were discouraged from helping their child with their studies too much but instead to encourage us to rely on ourselves and problem solve. I cannot recall very many instances where my parents assisted or even helped me with my homework. I learned to be an extremely independent thinker and problem solver. Placed in advance classes from 1st grade on, I surrounded myself with high achievers where anything less than perfection was frowned upon. While I am sure my parents never meant to instill “perfectionism,” they did require that I do my best at everything. My best was almost always at a higher level. Thus, from a young age, I required perfection from myself. I not only required myself to get an A, but to outscore everyone else in my class.
I recall in 2nd grade a competition that the teachers had for a math award. We took time-table tests in addition, subtraction, multiplication and division. We were given one minute to solve 60 of each kind of math and do it correctly. These tests were administered over a period several weeks with each test getting progressively more difficult. The first person to pass all tests ahead of everyone else, was the winner. I was determined to be that winner. And, I did it. I can remember extreme joy and pride in beating 50 other 2nd graders (guys and girls) at this contest. That trend of being at the top continued most of my young years.
However, the years of achievement and requiring so much out of myself came at a toll. I would get increasingly frustrated if I could not be at the top, beating out everyone else to be first. If I couldn’t be the best, sometimes I would just not try or I would self-sabotage so I would have an excuse or an out for not being perfect. This led to bouts with extremely high achievements followed by periods of procrastination and quitting activities. I found a bit of an article that echoed this sentiment. “The only child will receive all of their expectations from their parents rather than both parents and siblings. Because of this, many only children are in danger of acquiring perfectionistic or people-pleasing behaviors. On a more optimistic note, proponents of birth order theory state that only children tend to be quite confident, diligent and mature. Not all only children are over-achievers, but even the most laid-back only child is clearly guided by a need to do the right thing and strives to make a difference in society.”
Many of my “only-childness” and perfectionist characteristics caused problems in my high school years. I developed a group of friends who were, often times, very high achievers themselves. Surrounding yourself with competition of that nature can lead to many joys and many sorrows. I already had a very difficult time relating to people in my own age group. I took to making friends with many different “groups” that ranged from academic nerds (Extended Learning Program anyone?) to the popular jocks and everything in between like the choir and drama folks as well as the middle-road B-group. That way, I could vary my time and not have to get too close to any one group and avoid having a label. I also valued my alone time to an almost ridiculous degree. However, as illustrated by the next quote, many other only children feel the same way. Said one adult only child, "Possibly the best part was developing the ability to enjoy being alone and to entertain myself. I've always had plenty of friends, yet people are surprised by how much of a loner I can be" I enjoyed going out in groups, but also equally enjoyed a night to myself reading a book or going and sitting in a coffee shop by myself to write.
My parents, wisely on their part, prohibited me from dating until I was 16 and instead encouraged me to develop friendships with both sexes in group environments. When I was 16½, I began slowly dating the guy that would be become my future husband. He was a year older than me and involved in choir. That is how we met: making pizzas for a choir fundraiser. I had actually met him briefly before. Being the super-friendly personality I was, I marched over to introduce myself to him because he was one of the few people I had not talked to within my choir world. He would tell me later that he had been enchanted by my smile and friendliness.
His home-life would eventually upset my world and change my outlook on myself and how I was supposed to relate to people. My husband is a middle child in a divorced family, but the oldest boy. During the divorce and after, he became the mediator and peacekeeper of the family. All three siblings were, in their own ways, traumatized by the divorce and the woman their father would take as his second wife. It caused each of the three to develop and act out in their own unique way. His older sister and mother would take an instant dislike to me. I represented everything that their family did not have; a stable home environment, plenty of money, attention, and self-esteem. They took every opportunity to cut into my sense of well-being. My boyfriend/husband did what he always did and tried to maintain the peace instead of taking sides or defending me in any way. Of course, that led to me thinking that something was wrong with me. Plus, I just didn’t understand why they had such a difficult time liking me. I never had to work so hard for acceptance.
When I got to college, I encountered the same difficulty. For the first time, I encountered serious difficulty in finding anyone with whom I could relate. I attended a very small, private college. I convinced myself that I chose this college based on its academics, music program and the fact I received a healthy scholarship, but in truth, I went there to follow my boyfriend who had started there one year prior. I thought I could fit into small town life and excel in a relatively small group of people. While I did excel academically, I did not excel at relationships. I had been built up from a young age to always look forward to college because that is where I would finally find peace in my environment. It would be this magical place where I would finally fit in and find peers that I could relate to. Hahahahaha. Was that ever wrong! Well, I suppose it could have been that way had I actually gone to where I wanted to go and where I knew I would best fit in instead of trying to force a fit that wasn’t there. It’s like having a size 10 foot and trying to squeeze it into a size 6 shoe. It doesn’t work. And I didn’t work at this college. However, I saw the fact that I didn’t fit in there as a failure on my part instead of looking at it for what it was. As a person that refuses to admit failure, I continued to push to make it work. To compensate for my growing dissatisfaction, I began using throwing up as a means to rid my mind of negative feelings. I learned that people didn’t want to help me or hear about my problems so I found a way to cope.
My other means of coping included taking up a flurry of activities and excelling at my studies. I flitted around from group to group until I found a few friends I could connect to. My friends changed from year to year as did my roommates. I finally decided that I did not want to finish out four years and to crown my perfectionism, I would graduate with a double major in three years. All of my friends were a year older than me and I didn’t want to be there any longer than necessary. My advanced placement test scores, CLEP scores and the fact I could balance 5-6 classes at a time as well as a part-time job, tutoring, choir, etc… helped me accomplish this and stay extremely busy. During this period I also got engaged, planned a wedding, graduated, interned at a major corporation, got a job with said corporation and then got married. It is enough to make my head spin even now. All of this in attempt to feel at the top of perfection again since, in my eyes, I had failed at so much.
From “special” adopted and only child baby to dissatisfied perfectionist adult; it has been quite the journey. I do not pretend to speak for all only children experiences, for other adoptees or for those like me that are both adopted and only-children. I’m sure my environment, the biological pieces that I know little about, plus my own choices in the circumstances life has handed me thus far has shaped me into this woman who is trying to understand who she is and why she has done and continues to do what she does. I’d be interested if any other only children who might happen to read this think about some of my thoughts and experiences and whether there are any similarities.
posted by Self Therapy | 2:11 PM
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