Growing up without siblings can feel like living in a quiet house filled with echoes where every joy, mistake, and moment of attention circles back to you alone. For some, being an only child means peace, independence, and endless parental affection. Others experience loneliness, pressure, and a constant sense of being scrutinised.

In Bangladesh, where family bonds often extend beyond bloodlines, being an only child comes with its own set of emotional nuances. A few young adults share what it truly feels like to grow up in that space between silence and solitude.

“Being the only child in a family has its perks and its downsides,” said Alif Mohammad Khan, Executive MBA student at the Department of Banking and Insurance, University of Dhaka. “On one hand, I get undivided attention, priority in everything, and all the love from my parents. I am at the centre of their world. But on the flip side, it can get overwhelming—strict parenting can make it harder to adapt to real-life situations. There’s often a sense of loneliness, a tendency to be in my own world, doing things in my own way, and sometimes even being a bit stubborn. These traits often show up in academics or in my personal life too. As an only child, I am selective when choosing friends. But honestly, I believe that with time and maturity, these issues sort themselves out.”

For Md Mosabbir Hossen, another Executive MBA student from the same department, the experience is a balance between comfort and confinement. “Frankly speaking, being an only child I have to face both advantages and disadvantages,” he said. “There is higher acceptance and priority in almost everything. A friendly and profound bond grows with parents, as there are no siblings to divide attention. All the love, care, and focus are centered on me. When it comes to clothes, pocket money, or food—everything feels a bit luxurious. But loneliness is often felt, especially during childhood or while making major life decisions. Because of academic commitments, I usually stay in a city where I rarely get to travel outside due to restrictions. I can’t go on solo trips far away; wherever I am, I have to return home by 8 or 9 PM. I have to avoid conflicts, troubles, or risky situations. There’s always a feeling of being under constant supervision in everything I do.”

Meha Zabin Binta Moin Prioty, an MA student at the Department of Urdu, University of Dhaka, echoed similar thoughts. “Well, I get my parents’ undivided attention; I feel that I’ve stronger parent-offspring bonds than regular. I don’t have to share my material stuff with anybody else; no one compares me with my sibling (because there isn’t any), so there is no melodrama, conflict, or rivalry. But the problems start when I step out of the family. Whenever I’m not the centre of the attraction, I feel low. I would rather sacrifice than share things with others. I think I’m over-dependent on my parents—mentally and physically. And there are pressures to excel. There is an unseen pressure; it feels like I have to make sure that all my parents’ dreams come true. This stresses me out every time, whatever I’m doing. Like, being a perfectionist is a duty for me. Then comes loneliness. The fear of losing my parents is also involved.”

For Protno Prithu Biswas, from the Department of International Relations at the University of Dhaka, being the only child often translates to solitude. “In personal life, my parents give me extra privileges but I feel alone and lonely sometimes,” he said. “In family life, that loneliness exists a lot. In academic life, I have no guidance of any senior siblings. As a child, I had no one to play with.”

Riya Saha, from the Department of Chemistry at the National University, describes her experience as both comforting and isolating. “Being an only child comes with both its blessings and its drawbacks. On the bright side, I’ve always had all the love and affection from my parents—it was all mine since I was little. But I’ve grown more and more introverted, and honestly, being alone has become my comfort zone. No sibling fights, no chaos—I never had to deal with that. But of course, there’s an alternate side to it. My communication skill isn’t the very best, and I believe being an only child has a lot to do with that. As I mentioned, I’m an introvert, and I think it partly comes from growing up alone. I don’t really know what sibling bonding feels like. And whenever my parents aren’t around, I’m left completely on my own. Even during school days, my mom was the one who always taught me—no older siblings to help me out. I haven’t stepped into my professional life yet, but when I do, I know it’ll be tough to leave them behind. That’s just one of the emotional challenges of being an only child.”

For Mst. Bushra Jahan of the University of Rajshahi, being an only child feels peaceful but sometimes incomplete. “I enjoy being the only child as I am introvert. I don’t like gatherings in my house. But sometimes I feel sad that I don’t have any siblings to whom I can share my feelings, who would have been my companion. I miss the relationship between siblings sometimes.”

The sentiment is shared by Saima Rahman Ongki, an MBA student at the Department of International Business, University of Dhaka. “I get enough support from my parents but sometimes I feel like what will happen to me if they aren’t alive? Being an only child is good for having all the affection of parents but it brings up a lot of loneliness. I wish I had an elder sibling!”

Shehreen Sharika Anchal, an MBBS student at Green Life Medical College, calls it “a roller-coaster ride.” She explained, “There are days when I feel this is what I wanted and days when I think I wish I had a sibling. The biggest impact of being an only child, I think, is on my personal life. Sometimes all I need is someone to talk to and not everything can be shared with my parents. That’s when I think I wish I had a brother or a sister. Academically, I feel if I had an older one, I would be slightly relieved of some confusions related to my studies. That’s what I see from my friends who have siblings. There are advantages too — you get to have privacy, you get the maximum amount of attention, but not having a sibling means missing out on some experiences. Normally, from my experience, I have seen most siblings come as stress-busters. If I’m being honest, sometimes I felt a need for an older one as a sibling.”

Living abroad, Anika Mehpara Choudhury from Carleton University, Canada, reflects on the depth of solitude in her upbringing. “Being an only child is like growing up in a house full of mirrors instead of windows. There’s an intense inwardness to it—a lot of space to think, to imagine, to create your own internal world. I didn’t have siblings to share blame with, or secrets, or even boredom. Everything—the praise, the pressure, the expectations—came directly and solely to me. It made me feel important, but also hyper-aware. There were real privileges: I learned to be comfortable alone, to enjoy my own company. I could pursue interests without compromise. My parents were deeply involved in my life, which gave me a strong foundation. But that closeness also came with a kind of invisible leash—being the only one meant I carried their hopes more acutely, and sometimes their fears were amplified and projected onto me. It wasn’t suffocating, but it was… dense. Socially, I had to learn certain things later. Conflict negotiation, compromise, even sharing—those weren’t hardwired early on. I often felt like I was catching up in group dynamics, especially in school or early work settings. Still, I think being an only child gave me a strange mix of solitude and intensity—I observe more, I internalize more, and I tend to approach relationships with care because I know the weight of being someone’s ‘only.’”

An only child’s experience is not a simple story of privilege or loneliness, rather it encompasses both and everything in between. It teaches self-reliance, yet it reminds one of the quiet ache of growing up without a partner in crime. Between silence and solitude, only children often find themselves learning the art of belonging — to themselves first, and then to the world.