No noise and no distractions.

I never realized before how quiet a house can be.

Even my own room, neat and tidy, stood so silently.

Everything looked and sounded perfectly still.

A strange feeling hit me.

Solitude.

That loneliness evokes the same thought that’s been with me for all my years — my longing for a sibling.

About 20% of children in the United States do not have siblings, according to data from the U.S. Census, and I’m one of them.

I’ve noticed every family household around me, including my neighbors and cousins, has two or more children.

Something about that makes my chest feel tight inside because I know I’ll never get to experience bonding with a sibling.

From a young age, I’ve always dreamed about having a sibling — someone who I could share my highs and lows with.

Perhaps if I had a sister we would share endless talks at night, go shopping, watch movies and dance all our worries out.

Maybe if I had a brother he would be checking in daily, making sure things were OK and protecting me.

Being an only child made me feel like my glass of water was half empty, leaving me to question, “Who can fully fill my glass of water?”

Especially in a classroom environment, including at El Camino College, teachers sometimes ask if any of their students have siblings.

I always sat silently as other students raised their hands and participated.

The moment my head lowered down, I started to remember the moments during middle school where my mind started to think about siblings.

During games or events, siblings would cheer for each other. When waiting to get picked up, there were times I had to wait unaccompanied.

For someone who often spends time alone, I often feel like the lack of companionship follows me.

Every time my cousin’s daughters — my nieces — connect with each other, yapping, I sometimes stand in the corner thinking about these thoughts, feeling left out and detached.

Sometimes I feel welcomed to chat with them but it doesn’t seem to be the same thing as when you’re with your own siblings.

The smiles, the shared talks and laughter they share are different from the ones I experience.

Deep down, being an only child sometimes makes me feel alone and isolated from others.

Being an only child is also a growing trend, as the average number of children born to U.S. women fell in 2024 to its lowest rate of 1.6 — a number that matches global rates, according to a Johns Hopkins University article.

Growing up without siblings meant I never got to share my toys or bedroom with anyone.

I didn’t have to share the same closet or fight over things.

Some people tell me I’m lucky to be an only child because I don’t have to argue with a sibling.

But honestly, I would be really happy and curious to experience what it’s like to have one.

Sigh.

That feeling of solitude I experience causes my mind to spiral every time I’m in a room with my own thoughts.

But being without siblings does have good and easy moments.

I got to explore more activities and find the things I enjoy most, including theater, which I joined for the first time as a freshman in high school.

The first play I ever did was “She Kills Monsters” by Qui Nguyen. Participating in productions like that introduced me to new people and let me explore a new world in theater.

It taught me it’s okay to do things alone.

Being on stage makes me feel free and builds my confidence, too.

Not only that, but as I’m acting in a scene or as a character, it helps to distract my mind from overthinking the longing feeling of wanting a sibling.

And the more time I spend alone, not only does it help me gain independence but it makes me enjoy my own company even more.

Looking at my glass as half full, throughout my years of being an only child, I really enjoyed spending time by myself and focusing on my goals.

Because being alone doesn’t mean having that empty feeling means you are incomplete. It means you can find yourself.

By being myself, I’m gaining the courage to fill my own cup.