I Was A Spoiled Only Child — And It’s Haunted Me Ever Since

Receiving Gifts Came With Strings Attached

A sense of dread washes over me every holiday season. Not at the notion of how much it’s going to cost for the gifts that I get others (friends, loved ones, my bosses, various Secret Santa exchanges).

But at receiving gifts myself.

And I have my (only) childhood to thank for that.

It Poisoned My Expectations

I was fortunate to grow up in a true middle-class household in the suburbs. Our small family-owned a house with a yard, a couple of cats, and could afford a road trip or two around the US every year.

And my mother could afford to get me presents often.

Sometimes I’d receive them for earning good grades or doing chores, but more often than not, they came unexpectedly. Between the ages of 6–13, my mother would reign random gifts upon me on an almost weekly basis.

I developed an addiction to getting stuff.

It wasn’t anything too wild or extravagant. Action figures, baseball cards, jeans, slices of cheesecake. But I’d get pouty if I went a few weeks without some sort of surprise (though I at least held back from verbally expressing it).

But I Realized Gifts Came With Strings Attached

My parents had your stereotypical quietly sad marriage growing up — with neither getting what they wanted from each other, nor from themselves.

Spending money gave my mother the high she thought she needed.

She constantly ordered things from QVC — so much so that she couldn’t fit all the clothing she bought in the 4 different closets we had. Sometimes she wouldn’t even open the package — she’d leave it sealed, in a closet somewhere. Her buying me presents may have had some benevolence in its intentions.

But she always sought immediate validation from me after.

Not just a thank-you, but clear-cut physical affection. A hug, a handhold, a kiss. I felt uncomfortable with the tit for tat, but even more so the act itself. Even as early as elementary school, a boy showing adoration for his mother in public rubbed me the wrong way.

My mother claimed I was being an ingrate if I didn’t meet her request for physical affection. While I didn’t have the courage to explicitly turn down gifts (not an easy thing to do as a kid or teen), I began to be facetious in returning affection. I’d put a few fingers on her wrist and lightly squeeze it in grandiose fashion like I was grasping a hot stove on a dare. I still did this as an adult before I cut off all contact with her due to how toxic our interactions had become.

She likely thought it was an inside joke between us when it actually was a way for me to cope with the unwanted expectations.

I Cringe When Receiving Gifts Now

At a previous job, I had a few coworkers (and my manager) who generously gave me small gifts on occasion. I’ll admit that it was a privileged problem to have! Nevertheless, I fear that situations like that come with the expectation of doing something above and beyond for the gift-giver in the future. It feels even more awkward to have the discussion of “please don’t give me gifts” when it’s people you work with every day, as the risk of ruining a professional relationship can cost you your job.

That and I’d be facing quite a few HR complaints if I tried to facetiously squeeze anyone’s wrist if a mere thank-you wasn’t enough.

Learning To Accept And Move On

This article was spurred on by my last conversation with my therapist. She’s helped me inch towards learning to accept gifts from others, thanking them at the moment, and not fretting over further expectations. I can’t control the intentions of other people, but I can control having an open mind and not jumping to conclusions.

But I’d love for more folks to know that they’ve already given me a gift greater than anything material. A gift that’s so important that they need not ever get me another thing.

Their friendship.