My Parents Stole My Room (And They Were Right)

My parents still live in my childhood home—a modern rarity I appreciate. There is a comfort in the familiar creaks of the floor or the kitchen pantry doors that haven’t changed in decades, save for a coat of paint.

However, since I moved out (the last child to escape), the house has gotten a facelift. It started small: a new driveway, or taking down the gumball tree in the front yard. Then came the coup de grâce: my parents annexed my former bedroom, blowing out a wall to add a bathroom.

Let’s all take a breath. We need to calm down from this earth-shattering change made without my permission. Sure, I wasn’t using the room, but shouldn’t they consult me before taking such drastic measures?

In reality, I shouldn't care. Yet, for a moment, I felt something had been stolen. It makes me wonder how often we tether ourselves to things, claiming a quiet ownership without ever being the steward.

We often confuse ownership with possession. Ownership is a status; it’s a name on a deed or a claim to a title. It is static. I claimed that bedroom was "mine" simply because I had a history with it. But I wasn't maintaining it. I wasn't heating it, cleaning it, or giving it purpose. I was just hoarding the potential of it.

Stewardship is different. It is the active acknowledgement that everything we hold—homes, careers, time—is temporary. My parents were being good stewards. They recognized the space had ceased to serve its purpose, so they evolved it. They let the old version die to make the house living again.

I see this same trap in creative work. We hold onto old jokes or "classic" routines because we feel we own them. But if we aren't refining them, we aren't owning them; we are just haunting them.

To truly own something, you must have the power to let it go. If you can't release the room, the job, or the bit, you aren't the owner anymore. You’re just the captive.

Besides, I can’t be too self-righteous. I visited last weekend, and I have to admit: the water pressure in my childhood memories is fantastic.