Have I ever taken something I wasn’t supposed to? What did I take? What were the circumstances? Who or what was the victim of my unauthorized taking? Did I feel guilty? Do I think it was immoral? Would I call it “stealing”?
Oh man. All of the questions.
Yes. I have taken things I wasn’t supposed to.
I would take candies from one of the jars at my grandmother’s house. Only the dark chocolate ones though. So it was ok…
When I was younger my cousin had some not good friends. They would shoplift, and though I don’t remember ever actually stealing anything, I was part of the group. I remember how one time my heart was beating so fast, my hands shaking so hard at the thought of taking one of the little keychain rings at the dollar store we were in. I feel, now, that I should have done something to stop them. I knew it was wrong, which is part of the reason there was so much adrenalin in my system. I was scared about getting caught. I didn’t like the thought of doing something wrong, yet I stood and did nothing to prevent it for the sake of being part of the group, for feeling included.
More recently, I had a glass of milk to go with one of the brownies that Zane made. I didn’t ask for permission, and though Trevor is pretty chill about stuff like that, and thinks that things like milk and eggs are communal, along with pasta and veggies… pretty much anything unless it is explicitly stated, to me it was sort of immoral.
I would have wanted someone to ask me to use my milk since I buy organic milk and it’s not cheap. I want my milk to be there when I go to use it. If I want someone to ask me to use my things, I should do the same. Lead by example. But I didn’t because it was 2 in the morning and I wasn’t going to wake Trevor and Danielle up just to have a cup of milk. I did feel guilty about it, and ended up buying the next container as atonement.
I don’t think it really counts as stealing since by exact definition stealing is taking without the intent to return. Since I did return, or at least replace the milk I used, I feel I’m square with the Universe.
I’m not in the habit of taking or using things that are not my own. I don’t think I’ve ever really stolen anything. I’m pretty sure I would remember if I had. Even when things are left from exs I try to return the items because I don’t feel it is right to keep them. They’re not mine. Keeping them would be stealing and I don’t want that hanging over my head, or thrown in my face later in life for whatever reason.
If I want something I’ll get it through my own means. Usually monetary means.
I remember one instance where I did try to steal something on my own. It was at day care. I don’t think I was in school yet. My dad would always play with my hair and put clips and barrettes in it. I was walking by the cubbies we were allowed to put our stuff inside of and I saw a really pretty barrette. It wasn’t mine, but I took it so my dad could use it. I thought he would like it.
I got in trouble for that. When asked why I took it I couldn’t explain why because of how upset I was. Now, as an adult, I can see why it was so frustrating for the care takers and my parents. But I can also remember my mentality at the time and how I didn’t understand. If they wanted the barrette why weren’t they wearing it? I wasn’t going to break it or mess it up. I was going to take care of it and it would have made my dad happy.
Only it didn’t. He was really upset with me. I guess that’s where I learned that if it’s not mine I shouldn’t mess with it. It makes the people I care about upset with me, and I didn’t like those feelings.
I have also been stolen from in the past. In one instance it was by a person I considered my best friend. It was silly. We had gone to the beach. My grandmother had gotten me a new beach towel recently, a really big one with a black and red tribal dragon on it. It was freaking awesome. No lie. I loved that thing, and until this beach trip I had kept it tacked up on my wall because I liked looking at it. The dragon was that super cool.
I had forgotten to bring the towel back home with me after the trip, accidentally leaving it in my friend’s car. When I went back over a few days later I found it on her own wall, and when I asked to have it back she said it was hers. That she had told her mom she had liked mine so much that they went out and got one just like it. She wasn’t sure where mine was. That marked the end of our friendship. It may seem like it ended over a towel, but that wasn’t it for me. You can’t be my friend and steal or lie to me. That’s not how friendship works.