Being an only child, I have a lot of fun by myself and do some pretty immature things for my amusement. I sometimes make up words to songs I’m listening to and even sing to them in a foreign language that’s unrecognizable because it’s made up.
I also talk to myself and find I’m good company.
An example of this would be the other morning. I was pouring orange juice into a glass (a daily drink I find both tasty and refreshing) and almost knocked the glass over. I immediately stopped pouring and said out loud. “That was a close one,” before resuming my quest to add just the right amount. However, when I did, I spilled some all over the counter and exclaimed. “That was even closer!”
Maybe you don’t see the humor in this, but the only child in me thought it was funny and quite witty.
The reason for sharing this is that at one time in my life—a time I call my drinking days. I would have gotten angry over something like this and used a few select words that grownups call swearing. Not that I don’t still get mad at times and curse. I find using the F-Bomb can be very therapeutic under certain circumstances. But it feels good to be able to laugh at things like this and to be able to laugh at myself. (Being able to laugh at ourselves is a sign of growth and a great asset to have in one’s life.)
Although I act immature at times and joke that I have “only child syndrome“—a term that is real. The growth I’ve experienced in my sobriety has done more than just allow me to laugh at myself. It has also enabled me to love myself.
I never thought about whether or not I loved myself as a child. (Maybe that’s just part of being one.) But I know I didn’t love myself as a teenager, and certainly not as an adult.
It took several years of sobriety and the growth I mentioned to achieve self-love. And even then it took a couple of more years to be happy with who I was.
An only child who not only finds themselves to be good company. But someone who has learned to find humor in things that aren’t worth getting upset about.