AITA I’m a double affair baby who was rejected by both sets of siblings so I say I’m an only child?
Imagine growing up knowing you were the product of betrayal—your very existence rooted in two affairs—and then feeling the sting of outright rejection from those meant to be your siblings. For our OP, each birthday and holiday was tinged with hostility: cold shoulders, curt refusals to even say hello, and cruel words implying the world would be better off without him.
Now 25, he’s embraced the “only child” label not out of vanity, but self‑preservation. By erasing half‑siblings who never offered him love or loyalty, he protects his own sense of belonging and spares himself needless pain.
‘AITA I’m a double affair baby who was rejected by both sets of siblings so I say I’m an only child?’
Feeling rejected by one’s own family can leave deep emotional scars, but it also offers an opportunity to redefine personal identity. As Dr. Lisa Firestone explains, “We can learn to treat rejection as a loss of a person we valued without losing a sense of our own value,” adding that true healing begins when we refuse to see ourselves through the eyes of those who’ve hurt us. By choosing “only child,” our OP draws a boundary that preserves his self‑worth.
Family estrangement is more common than many realize: research suggests that up to 15% of adults report feeling estranged from a relative. Chronic rejection during formative years can fuel distrust and anger, making it difficult to forge new bonds. Acknowledging and naming that hurt—whether by therapy or trusted friendships—helps individuals move from a reactive stance of avoidance to proactive self‑care.
Attachment theory teaches us that early bonds shape our expectations for close relationships. When half‑siblings consistently send messages of hostility, the betrayed child learns to anticipate rejection. Over time, this expectation can harden into a protective stance: better to call oneself an only child than risk further abandonment. Recognizing this pattern empowers one to seek secure connections elsewhere—among friends, mentors, or one’s own future family.
Moving forward, experts recommend cultivating a chosen‑family network to fill the emotional void left by biological relatives. Simple steps—like joining supportive community groups or pursuing therapy focused on boundary setting—can foster resilience. By surrounding himself with people who genuinely value him, our OP can redefine “family” on his own terms and finally leave the shadow of rejection behind.
See what others had to share with OP:
Readers overwhelmingly supported the OP’s choice, arguing that family ties are earned, not mandated by genetics. Many pointed out that no one should be forced to claim relationships that bring only pain and hostility.
The consensus: calling himself an only child is a valid coping mechanism and a clear message: respect me, or don’t claim me at all. Others noted that sharing a long‑term partner or close friends often builds stronger bonds than blood alone.
This story raises a fundamental question: must family always be defined by biology, even when those bonds have been broken? If you’ve ever disowned a relative or felt compelled to redraw your own family map, how did you navigate that choice? Share your experiences and advice below—your insights could help someone wrestling with their own definition of family.