Hi, I’m Debarati Mondal, a teacher, and this is my personal space where I share everything from beauty journeys to life’s raw emotions. If you’re here again, welcome back. Today’s blog isn’t about skincare; it’s about skin-deep feelings.
It’s about growing up as the only daughter in a Bengali middle-class family, something that’s equal parts blessing, love, pressure, and loneliness.
As a child, I spent long afternoons alone while my parents were busy with work. Just me, my imagination, and the silence of an empty house.
It wasn’t always peaceful. When something went wrong, there was no brother or sister to share the blame. It was always, “Who did it?”, “Is there anyone else here but you?” I learned early that in a single-child home, responsibility, and the consequences, are all yours.
But the FUN part,
Being a single child has its perks. Your parents are always there, your dad becomes your personal driver, and your mom checks on you constantly. Your bed, your things, your space, everything is yours. Even the word “Babu” can mean a thousand things depending on her tone. Life is full of small joys that only a single child truly experiences.
Since childhood, I have always wished for an elder brother. Someone to protect me, take my side, and scare away anyone who troubled me. On Raksha Bandhan or Bhai Dooj, I even tied rakhi to my own wrist just for the feeling of having a brother.
I also dreamed of having a sister. Someone to share clothes with, argue over small things, play games, or cry to late at night without explaining why. Some emotions are hard to share with even the closest parents because of the generation gap.
I have amazing friends, but friends are not siblings. They can drift away or not always understand the depth of your feelings. A sister would have been a built-in best friend who never leaves.
Being a single child in a middle-class family feels like carrying a lifelong responsibility tag. You fulfill dreams, care, and hold the legacy alone. You chase dreams with guilt and stay strong with no backup. It’s like paying emotional EMIs without learning to save for yourself.
People say, “Single children are so lucky! All the attention, all the love, all the property.” Yes, property sounds nice, until you realize you also inherit all the responsibility, emotional weight, and caregiving duties. There is no one to share the load or to argue about who will visit home this weekend. It is always you.
So, If You’re Dating a Single Child…
To all the partners out there: If you love someone who’s a single child, know this.
-She isn’t clingy, just never had anyone to call hers except her parents.
-She isn’t too emotional, just used to keeping everything inside.
-She isn’t dramatic, she only needs someone who truly says, “I’ve got you.”
Sometimes I laugh at being pampered and sometimes I wish for someone to talk to at night. Being a single child is not just selfies and solo cakes; it comes with love, pressure, and quiet strength. I stand, I glow, and face life on my own, and find joy in my own company.
Being alone has taught me to be strong, to handle whatever comes my way, and to carry my world with courage.
What do you think? Comment below!
