(Author’s note: I am going to side track a little. The topic doesn’t fit my liking much. But it will be related. More to my childhood.)
Being the eldest daughter at home with two younger brothers, it inevitably meant that I didn’t have ownership over anything. Being the eldest is being equated to having to share and give up everything to the younger siblings. Being the only daughter is equivalent not being able to win your brother when a fight broke out over a favourite toy. So everything that I could claimed mine was my prized possession.
The childhood of having to share everything made me hate sharing, especially when my brothers treated me sharing my things as something that was the way of life. They were not appreciative and made horrid comments like, “Be thankful that we are willing to use your things.” “It is your honour that we are borrowing from you.”
And they never had the initiative to return my things. I complained to my mother and all she said was,
“I’ll ask them to pay.”
Can’t she understand that not everything can be replaced by money? Some things are given by friends, some were bought using my first pay, some were bought as mementos. The feelings and memories can’t be bought by money. And if my brothers can’t be appreciative about me lending my stuff, all they could at least do was to keep my things safe.
My things are either not being returned or they are returned in a poorer state.
Therefore, I concluded.
It’s best not to own anything.