'The (only) kids are alright.' A love letter to life without siblings.

I was about eight years old when I decided I wanted a little sister.

A brother would’ve probably been fine, I guess — but a sister was preferable.

I have a vivid memory of being in the lounge room with Mum, begging: “Can we pleeeeease go down to the orphanage and get another kid?”

A question I now know as an adult was a.) ridiculous — truly, how many old-school Disney movies had I watched to think that this was how adoption worked?, and b.) probably broke Mum’s heart a bit, given that my parents wanted more kids but hadn’t been able. Eight-year-old Alix did not know this, obviously.

But that remains the only childhood memory I have of wanting siblings, because, friends, let me tell you — life as an only child has been sweet.

Watch: Paige Weldon on being an only child. Story continues below. 

I share this as a PSA to any people out there considering one-and-done parenting but feeling guilty for wanting to stop at one. To anyone who’s been unable or unwilling to grow their family — for any reason.

Know this: The (only) kids are alright.

I’m 38 years in (which I guess makes me an only adult now?) and the times I’ve longed for siblings have been few and far between, save for that let’s-pop-down-to-the-local-orphanage moment.

Have I seen my friends’ loving sibling moments had felt a bit ‘aw’ here and there? Sure. I mean, I am human. But I have loved life as an only.

Hello I'm a tiny newborn! Image: Supplied.There's definitely a (rather outdated) perception that only children are worse off, somehow. 

We’re spoilt. Selfish. Lonely.

But the way I see it, I was fortunate to have my parents’ undivided attention — not spoilt.

Mum and Dad taught me not to be selfish (trust me, your kids don’t need siblings to learn that life lesson!).

And the amazing relationships I have cultivated with my super tight-knit community of friends — not to mention my cousin, who is the same age and like a sister to me (hey, Soph!) — make sure I never feel like I’m going through life alone.

I’m not saying people shouldn’t have more than one kid, duh. There are clearly benefits to having siblings, not to mention it’s an individual choice that families have to make for themselves (much like deciding whether to have any kids is going to come down to what’s right for you). What I’m saying is, there’s good on both sides of the fence. The grass looks greener anywhere you're not, you know?

It’s something I spoke to a friend about recently when she shared that she and her husband have made a conscious decision not to have any more kids after their first baby came along. Where they doing the right thing by their daughter? Was their decision cruel, would she be lonely? Would they regret it when they were older, and having more kids was no longer an option?

And look, I don’t actually have the answers to any of those questions (well, except the ‘cruel’ one — the answer there is no, it’s not cruel).

But what I can say, from my experience (and I do consider myself something of an expert in not having siblings, having not them for an entire lifetime), is that life ain’t bad when you’re the sole offspring. 

Growing up, I had an incredibly close relationship with my parents. That’s not to say that folks with sibs don’t have that, but we were a unit, a trio, and having their undivided attention in the parenting stakes contributed to that, I reckon. I didn’t have to vie for attention or affection; and while I had no clue about it growing up, I understand as an adult that I will have reaped financial benefits as well.

There’s plenty of research to suggest we only kids are doing alright for ourselves, too. (Though the funny thing with research, I find, is you can always track down something that supports your views, no matter what those views happen to be…) But the main takeaway from my very brief Google search research is this: Onlies are no less well-adjusted than kids with brothers and sisters, have just as meaningful relationships and (ahem) are not non-sharing little gits by default.

Listen: The hosts of This Glorious Mess talk sibling rivalry. Story continues below. 

But ultimately, you don't know what you don't know, and I've never felt I missed out on anything. 

Except once — when my dad died in 2014.

Our little triangle family, which had always been so deeply embedded into my individual identity, was down to two, and I was hyper-aware that there was no-one else I could share this exact experience with; no-one else who had lost my dad. Mum and I were both devastated, but our experiences and the person we’d lost were different, despite the similarities. Mum had lost a husband, the love of her life. I had lost a father. But what really struck me that nobody else knew what it was like to be the daughter of Christo, and that realisation made me both feel incredibly privileged — to have had the opportunity to be this specific man’s child — and incredibly isolated, in that this was my experience alone to bear.

(Obviously, I know many people have lost fathers, mothers, loved ones of all sorts — but what I’m talking about is the very specific experience of being the daughter of MY dad, you know?)

Aside from that, though? Only child life has been sweet.

So if you’ve been thinking you’re done at one, or feel like you’ve done something wrong in not giving your kid a sib, take it from one who’s both been there and done that: we onlies are A-okay. 

Alix Nicholson is Mamamia's Managing Editor. Want to catch more of her adventures in travel, beauty, lifestyle and #dogmum life? Head on over to her Instagram.

Feature image: Supplied.