How do I learn to share?

With help from Austen and thoughts on The Rainbow Fish

The Rainbow Fish controversy: has sharing been cancelled?

I want to be better at sharing. I have this vision of being a super chill, generous and abundant person, but I just really struggle to share my things! I feel a bit obsessed with 'fairness' in particular, and get frustrated with housemates if I buy something nice for our cupboards but then they use way more than half; I don't want my friends to borrow my clothes in case they spill something on them or stretch them (even though that probably wouldn't happen); If I go for dinner with my partner and we share a dish I get stressed that we need to get the same amount of the good bits on each of our plates. I don't love this part of my personality and wish someone asking to use one of my eggs didn't bother me so much - but it does! Will/can/should I ever change?

I love you for writing in with this question. It’s too real. I hope you don’t mind that I found it funny, too; only because it’s so relatable: the way you point to that mortifying gap between the shiny, sexy, spontaneous versions of ourselves we like to project, and the miserly insecure little gremlins we all are on the inside. Your problem is not as shameful as you think it is, and very few people are as chill as they make out.

First off, I wonder whether discussing this issue with your (hopefully) trusted partner or friends might help to exorcise some of the embarrassment I sense you feel. If you can discuss the problem with as much humility and self-awareness as you did above, they might find it funny, too, rather than particularly shocking. And if they know you well, they might be able to help you take some baby steps toward a life of chill abundance. (Don’t talk to anyone who is predisposed to teasing you, forever, though. Just someone who could be your spirit guide.)

But - I’m jumping ahead of myself. Because you didn’t just ask how to learn to share, you asked whether it was worth learning in the first place. Your question reminds me of the recent controversy surrounding the children’s book The Rainbow Fish, which is well on its way to being cancelled. Do you remember it? Basically, it’s about this proud fish with loads of shiny scales who doesn’t want to share them with the other, more prosaically-scaled fish. But when he does learn to give his scales away, he realises he derives more joy from sharing than he did from keeping his prized possessions to himself, and swims off into the sunset surrounded by the fish he had once shunned.

Critics of this picture book have argued that it promotes people-pleasing and ‘dulling your sparkle’ in order to pacify others. In fact, according to some psychologists, it’s the reason millennials like me need therapy - it’s no wonder we grew up with no boundaries, when we were taught to give away our treasures to anyone who asked.

When I first heard about this new hot take I instinctively thought it was ridiculous, and scoffed at it with my millennial friends. An arrogant fish hoards the material wealth he was born with, and then learns to give it away to others who have nothing - how is that a bad message? But when I went back to the story, I did think it was slightly more complicated. In that classic early 90s style, there is a bluntness to the narrative - rainbow fish instantly becomes social pariah when he won’t share - that feels a bit harsh in our softer 2020s landscape. Perhaps I wish the protagonist had learned to share of his own volition, rather than being pestered so much by that little blue fish. And, as always with literature, how you feel depends on your interpretation. Taken literally, of course, no-one should have to give away their body parts to win approval. But understood metaphorically (as I think it was meant to be), I think the message that ‘giving away something you have lots of feels good’ is true and useful.

Marxist critique of rainbow fish

Nonetheless, I do want to acknowledge the fact that there is balance to be found between generosity and self-preservation. There will be times when you have to say no, and relationships that feel exploitative - in which everything is given and nothing ever received - are definitely no good. But, to be honest, I think what you’re describing in your letter is more the natural give and take of a healthy interpersonal ecosystem, in which rounds are bought/ eggs are shared/ last bites are given away without too much second guessing. It might feel counter-intuitive to make a selfish argument for learning to share, but I think you’d be happier if you could get comfortable with this. If you spend all day at work fuming about your missing egg, the only real loser is you.

I think lots of people would tell you to look to your childhood here, and reflect on whether you have a deep-rooted scarcity mindset that is influencing your adult behaviour. There may well be something in this: I definitely get my horror of food wastage from my parents. If delicious meals out were limited growing up, or ripped clothes rarely replaced, it would be all too understandable for you to have carried these hang-ups with you into adulthood. But whatever your childhood was like, it sounds like you don’t currently live in an environment where there is no room at all for luxury. So - if you think you have a fear of things running out - could you treat yourself to a solo restaurant trip, or something new for your wardrobe, as a mental reminder of the comparatively plentiful life you live today?

However, I actually think there’s a different, more likely explanation for your feelings. In my experience, people who struggle to share are fearful that they will be taken advantage of. Because, unless you are truly living on the poverty line, it can’t really be about the 20p egg, or that singular bite of pasta. I think it’s about what these things might stand for: that your friends don’t respect you, that your partner doesn’t love you, that you’re the kind of person people exploit or undervalue. By contrast, people who find sharing easy have an enormously solid sense of self-worth, and a deep trust in the reciprocity of their relationships. They are able to attach less significance to the borrowed egg - or at least able to quickly realise that someone’s use of it says more about their own relationship with sharing, than it does about their feelings toward whoever they’re borrowing it from.

I wonder if you feel that if you were generous, it would go unappreciated anyway, or that if you give someone an inch, they’ll take you for a ride (do you like my mixed metaphor?). But the truth is generosity is rarely forgotten by anyone worth knowing - I bet you can remember a dozen times people have been kind to you - and, in our close relationships, letting the small stuff go is an essential part of building trust. In fact, giving an inch (I repeat, with people you respect) creates space for the big stuff to flourish. I hope that doesn’t sound preachy. What I am trying to say is that I don’t think you are a bad or selfish person for struggling to share. I think you are probably just a bit afraid.

There is a character in every Austen novel who is ‘obsessed with fairness’, as you describe yourself to be, and I’m sorry to say they are rarely portrayed sympathetically. However, I think there’s a kinder way to read these characters, which speaks to both theories about your own behaviour I’ve put forward. Take Mary in Persuasion, for example; the younger sister of our heroine Anne Elliot. An obsession with fairness is one of Mary’s defining traits: she is always wondering whether others are getting a better deal. When her husband is supporting both her and Anne’s arms during a walk, she complains of ‘being on the hedge-side, while Anne was never incommoded on the other’ and begins to ‘lament… being ill-used, according to custom’. Later, a similar phrase comes up when Mary is anxious that a theatre trip be rescheduled, so she can attend too: ‘she should not think herself very well used, if they went to the play without her.’ And Mary’s behaviour is reminiscent of Elizabeth Bennet’s younger sisters in Pride and Prejudice, permanently frustrated by the unfairness of not being allowed to attend a ball, or go on a trip that one of their elder sisters has been invited to. Then there’s also Mrs Bennet, who is permanently ‘cruelly used’ and ‘barbarously used’ in her own right. By contrast, Elizabeth and Anne in the respective novels rarely worry about the injustice of things happening without them, as they frequently do - trips to Brighton and Bath, to name just two.

What Mary, the young Bennet sisters and Mrs Bennet have in common first of all is that they are women, which makes sense from the ‘scarcity mindset’ perspective. With far less opportunities to socialise and see the world than their male counterparts, it’s no wonder they get fixated on resources being doled out fairly. But the other thing that unites them is a lack of meaningful, deeply trusting relationships, such as the ones Anne and Elizabeth have with Lady Russell and Charlotte Lucas, which make sharing so easy. In a way, the younger sisters are ill-used, by husbands who mock them (in Persuasion), and fathers who openly prefer their siblings (in P&P). Or perhaps a predisposition to feel ill-used has become a self-fulfilling prophecy, with insecurity and confrontation breeding resentment and mistrust. It’s hard to know what came first.

Now, I don’t think your own relationships necessarily lack meaning, but perhaps - for whatever reason - you lack faith in them, or faith in yourself, which leads to limited trust. What could you do about this? It sounds corny, but you could try writing a list of everything you value about your partner, or everything kind your housemates have ever done for you. You could also ask for more affirmation from your partner, if you think it would help. Reminding yourself of the deep love others surely feel toward you might help you reach a place of ‘equity, rather than equality’ - they borrow an egg, but they also came with you to the doctor that time. You could also try actively sharing, rather than waiting to be asked, to bypass the feeling of being exploited. What if you took a deep breath, and offered to let one of your housemates wear your top (‘it would look so good on you!’). In this way, you get to hold onto your agency, while still building the sharing muscle you want to strengthen. You could also try and remind yourself that people asking to borrow or share is as likely to mean that they trust you, than that they want to exploit you.

Ultimately, if one aspect of sharing is really hard for you - say the clothes thing - you should be allowed to assert this, and if you have good friends, they will let you show your love in other ways. It’s interesting to me that the moments you describe struggling with are not to do with generosity, per se - and somehow I doubt you have an issue giving birthday presents, or being beneficent in other ways. Your issue is to do with sharing resources that are technically yours, like eggs. That’s what makes me think the struggle is more psycho-social than stemming from a comprehensive stinginess. And, of course, if your partner always hogs the shared dishes, then you do need to have a word. I certainly don’t want you to become a doormat, and it’s good to reflect on your relationships every so often, to make sure you’re still getting that warm fuzzy feeling that comes from knowing someone values your interests just as highly as their own. However: if you believe the relationship is, in a wider sense, reciprocal, then you don’t want to be counting out individual pieces of aubergine forever. So do everything you can to shore up your self-worth, ask for reassurance if you need it, and relax into the knowledge that these micro-transactions truly have nothing to do with how valued you are as a person. It is so hard not to take things personally, but if you can learn to do it, it will set you free.

And, if you’re looking for more Austen content in your life right now, the amazing

haley larsen, phd

is doing a Pride and Prejudice read along that looks like loads of fun! You can read her illuminating analysis & exercises for chapters 2-9 here and then sign up for the rest of the slow read if you want to.