The Birth Order Book (17 page)

The bottom line is that it’s never a good idea to stereo-type any birth order into some kind of slot or rut because of what you’ve heard, read, or even observed. Of course, some only children do come out spoiled, selfish, lazy, aloof, and even dependent and useless. But I’ve counseled middle children in that boat and also lastborns who fit the same description.

Some Lonely Onlies I Admire

Although I’m a lastborn (and nothing like an only child), certain lonely onlies are among people I admire most in this world. One is Ted Koppel, the succinct, do-things-exactly-right former host of
Nightline
. I know the guy’s retired. But when I think of interviewers who were some of the best, he immediately pops into my mind. Sure, he looked a little bit like Howdy Doody, but he was the best of the best.

I also have the highest regard for humorist and songwriter Steve Allen (the original host of
The Tonight Show
), who turned out something like ten thousand tunes. One of my joys in life was doing a couple of autograph parties with him. For an only child, he had a great sense of humor.

One of America’s leading developmental psychologists, Dr. James Dobson, is a person I’ve known and admired for years. Listen to his program and you’ll never hear a mistake. As an only child, he doesn’t allow them!

Nor can I forget to mention Charles Gibson, former cohost of
Good Morning America
, where I have been a frequent guest as “family psychologist.”
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Gibson goes by “Charles” or “Charlie,” and it’s easy to see why he can’t quite make up his mind. According to his ordinal birth order, he is the lastborn in his family, and that accounts for the “Charlie” who is easy-going and engaging. But the sibling just above him is more than ten years older, which automatically qualifies him for functional only child. And that accounts for the “Charles,” who has such a confident, incharge manner.

And right here in Arizona we have Pat McMahon. Those of us who reside in the Grand Canyon state know he is one of the best radio/television personalities in the business.

The Secret Is Why

I could go on with my only-child Hall of Fame, but perhaps I need to stop and ask some obvious questions:

1. Where has all this criticism of onlies come from over the years?

2. What is the only child’s downside, or should I say “dark side”?

The secret to understanding an only child is knowing
why
he or she is an only. And there are two major reasons, either of which determines the only child’s fate to a great extent.

The Special Jewel

You may be a “special jewel” only child, meaning that your parents wanted more children but could have only one, and all their energy and attention (along with a certain amount of doting and spoiling) went into you. If you’re a special jewel, most likely you were sheltered from reality (including the consequences of your actions) in your earlier years. And you may well have developed a typical trait of many only children—feeling overly important. Now that you’re an adult, you may have to cope with what could be a lifelong problem—being self-centered—because it’s hard to break that pattern molded long ago by Mom and Dad. Special jewels often arrive when parents are older—usually in their thirties or upward in age—and they make their only child the center of the universe.

The key to understanding an only child is knowing
why
he or she is an only.

I tell special jewels not to take the self-centered label too hard. They must keep in mind that they never had to learn how to share with siblings, so it’s natural enough to feel overly important. Adult only children need to balance two extremes: believing they really are more important than others and thinking they’re being treated unfairly when things don’t go their way.

Parental Plan

The other reason you may be an only child is that your parents planned for only one. In the late ’60s, when I was getting started in counseling, the planned-for only child was often the victim of very structured, tightly disciplining parents. They treated their lonely only as a little adult, always pressuring him or her to be grown-up, mature, responsible, and dependable. This kind of only child can appear very confident, cool, and calm on the surface, but just beneath, he or she is seething with inner rebellion. All your life you may have resented having to be the little adult, and now, having reached adulthood, you may be ready to indulge (or are in the midst of indulging) yourself in one way or another.

Adult only children need to balance two extremes: believing they really are more important than others and thinking they’re being treated unfairly when things don’t go their way.

Today, things have changed. Families have been growing ever smaller, and many parents are opting for only one child. According to a survey the US Census Bureau released in 2009, the average number of children in a household under the age of 18 is one.
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These only children aren’t as pressured as they used to be. They’re the beneficiaries of better parenting and often turn out to be well-adjusted, pleasant people with great initiative and high self-esteem.

One social psychologist who teaches at the University of Texas at Austin says, “The view of only children as selfish and lonely is a gross exaggeration of reality.”
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The more recent assessment of the only child is that he or she may have great initiative and good self-esteem. It’s also often the case that the only child never felt all that lonely either.
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They Want to Do It Right

Whether special jewels or planned, only children are excellent candidates for growing up to be ultra perfectionists. They want things just so, and when things don’t go their way, they get frustrated, antsy, and even angry. They become very impatient with, or very intolerant of, people who don’t measure up to their standards. Only children often quietly (and sometimes not so quietly) wish they could move in, take over, and “do it right.”

Only children are excellent candidates for growing up to be ultra perfectionists.

The single personality type I see far too much of in my office is the “discouraged perfectionist,” the person who thinks he or she has to be perfect (see chapter 5). These people are very structured, with high expectations for themselves and others. Only children suffer the most severely from this problem, but firstborns are not far behind.

Discouraged perfectionists come in different makes and models, but one of the most prevalent is the woman who wants to be everyone’s rescuer. She agonizes over the problems of others and always wants to move in, take over, and solve everything. I call this the “nurse mentality,” and it is no coincidence that nurses are often only children, or at least firstborns in their family.

Discouraged perfectionists need to realize the gap between their ideal self and their real self. The ideal self is the person you’d like to believe others see. The real self is the person you actually are. Here’s how Kathleen, a 41-year-old discouraged perfectionist only child, compared her ideal self with her real self.

Even after Kathleen made such an exhaustive list, she let me know she could have gone on—and on! For a nonperfectionist baby of the family like myself, it was not only exhaustive, it was exhausting! But it proved my suspicions. Kathleen was, indeed, a classic discouraged perfectionist. She knew exactly what she was supposed to be like, but she couldn’t measure up.

Her husband, Russ, described her as depressed, full of guilt, much too sensitive, a worrier, under a lot of pressure, constantly on the go, always catching up on projects, always having to do the right thing, always biting off more than she could chew—and always feeling like a failure.

After I looked at Kathleen’s real/ideal exercise, I gave her a suggestion for the next time she began to think discouraging thoughts: take off her high-heeled shoe and rap herself on the side of the head a few times. “I’m sure you’ve heard of the bestselling book
How to Be Your Own Best Friend
,” I said. “Kathleen, you could easily write
How to Be Your Own Worst Enemy
!”

What’s Ideal? What’s Real?

1. On the left-hand side of a piece of paper, make a list of the ways you would like others to see you. Label the list “Ideal Me.”

2. Now label the right-hand column “Real Me.” For each item in your left-hand list, write the ways you actually are and appear to others.

3. Evaluate your lists. How much discrepancy is there between the ideal and the real?

4. Would you call yourself a discouraged perfectionist? Why or why not?

Kathleen was wallowing so deeply in her discouraged perfectionism that she didn’t even see the humor in what I was trying to tell her—or the truth. I went on to explain that she was her own worst enemy because she let several different enemies live right there inside her head. The first thing she had to understand was that by comparing the ideal with the real, she could get to the very crux of the defeated perfectionist personality. One of Kathleen’s enemies was the idealism that had made her set extremely high goals. When she couldn’t reach those goals, her
perception
of her real self made her feel like a failure on every count. She really wasn’t as bad as her “real Kathleen” column seemed to say, but she
thought
she was, and that trapped her in her own prison of unfulfilled perfectionism.

Combating the Flaw Finder

Kathleen’s prison had been created mostly by the way she had been parented. An only child, she grew up in a family with a very detached father who would never praise her for anything—but he was very good at finding her flaws. Kathleen always felt that she could never measure up no matter how hard she tried.

For example, at age 13 she single-handedly built a brick wall that went around the back of her home and encircled a small patio. It was a major task for anyone and practically impossible for a 13-year-old. But in her own way she pulled it off and did an exceptionally good job. Everyone who saw the wall marveled at her work—except her father.

When Dad came home from a business trip and found the wall, he was enraged. Everything Kathleen had done was wrong. He couldn’t find one thing right with the wall or with her.

Things were bad enough growing up, but Kathleen fortified her perfectionist prison by choosing to marry Russ. He was smart, good at his job, and very successful. He was also a firstborn child and very insecure, because he also always felt as if he couldn’t quite measure up. Russ was an interesting combination, almost a paradox—he was very critical and flaw finding, but at the same time he didn’t want any conflict. The result was that he disapproved of Kathleen but never said much. Communication was almost zero.

And so Russ was absolutely inept at providing what Kathleen really needed in life: a husband who could share intimate thoughts and feelings with her. Kathleen’s forte, however, was getting her hopes high and then having Russ fall short of her expectations. But instead of confronting Russ, she turned the evidence on herself and became all the more convicted of not being a good person. Whenever Russ didn’t measure up to her lofty expectations for a husband, she didn’t tell herself Russ was terrible; she told herself she was terrible and if she could be a better person, Russ would behave differently!

As part of the counseling program, we brought Russ into the office, and I helped him learn how to articulate his feelings, first with me alone and then later in front of Kathleen. It was a revelation to him as he became aware that he was full of feelings but had just never learned to let them out. He had always quietly “disapproved” of Kathleen, and she had sensed it, only driving her deeper into discouraged perfectionism. When they finally got to talking, a lot of things cleared up fast.