She doesn’t share well with others

Nope, never have, never will. Is it bad for me to admit this? Does it make me a bad person? I find it actually refreshing to be truthful without sugarcoating the bullshit. I’ve always known this tidbit about myself AND others are always trying to make me feel bad about it…. Bottom line is, I never lend out things because no one takes care of my things as well as I do. For instance; I never never lend out hardback books and paperbacks very rarely…. Pretty much only if I don’t care about not seeing it again, which is my assumption at time of lending. For the longest time I kept my kernel of nastiness hidden away and would pretend I couldn’t find things that people had an interest in or “forget” to bring things until the interest waned. But you know what, I wasn’t kidding anyone. Last weekend my sister and I were at a shopping opportunity together with some of my neighbors. Someone suggested that I buy something and then she could borrow it. Big dilema… But, before I could come out with any kind of excuse, out blurts my sister “oh, she doesn’t share!” Well, there you have it folks… SHE DOESN’T SHARE! In that moment I felt as if the weight of years of hiding the real me had been lifted off me. The sun shone just a little brighter, the air was just a bit easier to breath. The best thing is the freedom to have it out there for everyone to know about me. Almost as good was learning that my fabulous neighbor doesn’t share either. We are so much a like it is kind of frightening! (Ace, you make me feel better about being myself when you are near…) Want to know THE FUNNIEST thing about this phenomena of my not sharing and who put it out there for the universe to finally know, the IRONY of the whole thing? One of my earliest memories is of my sister – who as a child even my mother labeled a nightmare – being told by our mother that if she didn’t put her toys away they would get thrown in the garbage. To which my sister smugly smiled and replied, “that’s OK, they aren’t mine!” Bet you can guess who’s toys they WERE; and perhaps now we know just when I determined that sharing things might have negative connotations. Ironic, isn’t it? (Love you Sister – for always knowing the truth about me and loving me anyway!)