STOP SHARING
Sharing is caring.
Until it is no longer caring for oneself.
I remember the first time I told another parent that my child would not be sharing with theirs. It was my son’s birthday party, he had just received a new toy, and before the wrapping paper could hit the floor, the other child wanted it.
Generosity is a core value in our family and like every parent of littles, I was doing my best to avoid unleashing a selfish psychopath into the world. But in that moment something came over me - couldn’t my son have a moment to enjoy something that was given to him? Could there be boundaries to sharing?
With my heart pounding I explained that my son needed time with his new toy and that at least for now, we would not be sharing. When the parent’s annoyed glance pressed further, I could only look away. I felt like an awful human being.
Sharing is caring.
Until it is no longer caring for oneself.
I also remember the first time I watched a friend tell another that she would not be sharing. It was an uncomplicated, kind, simple declination to offer up her belonging as a loaner for what another friend had forgotten. I doubt anyone else there on that day noticed, but it was powerful to me - powerful to the then 47-year-old me.
After all those years of living it had never been so plain. My mind had known the reality that not everything was to be shared, but my heart had still been wondering at a deeper truth - to what extent am I allowed to have boundaries?
Boundaries that may be different than those I do life with.
Boundaries that may not make sense to others.
Boundaries that I do not have to explain.
Sharing is such a stunning word. I hear it and envision cute little girls giggling and running hands-clasped together in a field. Boundaries, on the other hand feel like such a cold concept. In my mind the word evokes a picture of a cinder block barrier, mortar oozing out between joints as the cold wall stretches higher and higher.
But I have missed how beautifully they are intertwined. I have missed the times I must give myself permission to erect a few boundaries and stop sharing.
Time is arguably our most precious commodity and unfortunately the one we are most likely to fail to protect. There are so many noble things in our lives calling for it, so many activities that need it, so many people we care about asking for it. And there are so many kids at our birthday party demanding they get a turn with it.
It’s time we pause long enough to decide which is which.
That begrudging ‘yes,’ that tentative ‘okay,’ that hesitant, really-wish-I didn’t-have-to ‘of course,’ all save us from an immediate suggestion of guilt, but rob us of our genuine yes. We’re not sharing as much as we’re bowing to an unspoken ‘good girl’ standard. And burning ourselves out in the process.
Remember, sharing is caring.
Until it is no longer caring for oneself.
That toy at the birthday party all those years ago? It was soon shared with the other child who wanted a turn. By allowing my son the space to say no, I had unknowingly empowered him to offer a genuine yes.
It is a lesson I am still trying to teach myself.