You Don’t Need to Explain “Mi Casa, Su Casa” to the Right People

I was thinking about something earlier today: a memory of a loved one when I was a teenager.

I cannot remember exactly what it was, maybe a skirt, maybe a top, maybe something else of hers, but I had used it, and she was like, “Oh my God, why are you always touching my stuff? That’s my stuff. Leave it alone. Don’t touch it.”

And I remember, even then, being a little confused. Because in my mind, if I love you, what’s mine is yours. You are my loved one. You are my trusted person. Why would I begrudge you using something of mine?

Unless there was a specific reason not to, unless I needed it, it was delicate, it was private, or I had said no, my natural feeling has always been: babes, use it. It’s fine. I love you. I trust you. Mi casa, su casa.

I have found myself in similar situations with other people I am very close to. People I love, people I trust, people I would naturally share with. And they have had that same energy: “No, ask me first. That’s mine.” Or, “I don’t like people touching my things.”

And that is their right. Of course it is. Humans are different. Boundaries are real. People have their own relationships with privacy, possessions, space, trust, and control.

But I think it finally clicked for me today that not everyone is naturally keyed the way I am.

I am a sharing person. I am a loving person. I do not have to practise being generous with the people I trust; it comes naturally to me. I have quirks too, obviously. I am not pretending to be some perfect saint who owns nothing and floats around handing out her belongings to strangers. But with my people? The people I love? Most of the time, what is mine is yours.

And I have realised that I may not have met many people who are quite like that.

That used to hurt more. When someone I loved made it clear that they were very much, “This is mine, don’t touch it,” I would take it personally. I would think, “But I would never make you feel like that.” I would wonder why the closeness did not seem to mean the same thing to them as it did to me.

But at 37, and with a little more detachment in my life, I am like: okay. Have your things. I will have mine.

No hate. No drama. No trying to convince somebody to share in a way that does not feel natural to them. And no trying to force myself into being more individualistic, more guarded, or more selfish just because other people move that way.

I will find my people.

The people who understand mi casa, su casa without me needing to explain it. The people who match that energy. The people who know that generosity, openness, and softness are not weaknesses.

And to the other givers out there: there is nothing wrong with you.

You do not need to harden yourself into someone who keeps score over every little thing. You do not need to become selfish just because you have met people who are more protective, private, or possessive than you are. You can remain yourself while also learning where your energy is best received.

You do not need to villainise people who are different from you, either. That is the freedom in detachment. They are allowed to be who they are. You are allowed to be who you are. And you can simply make space for the people who meet you with the same care.

There is so much freedom on the other side of letting people be themselves.

And there are so many blessings waiting in the people who are givers like you.

Make space for them.