Personal Space - Our most sacred boundary

As I was typing the title of this piece, my spelling of "Sacred" auto-corrected to "Scared".. Which seems like a good point to jump in... Personal space is often misunderstood. The dictionary (yes, we still have one on the shelf) defines it as "the physical space immediately surrounding someone, into which encroachment can feel threatening or uncomfortable. Scared, almost.

We normally to think of personal space as a distance - physical room, phone off, doors closed. But in its truest sense, personal space is not about separating us from others, it has to do with staying closer to ourselves. It is the place where we are alone in the most beautiful sense of that word. Where we can just quietly "be" without performing, adjusting or explaining anything to anyone. A glorious feeling of being "off the air". Just for a bit.

I have a pretty short fuse, when lit, where personal space is concerned. I guess some might see that as a character flaw, others might not see a defect. For me, it is where my breathing settles and my thoughts can form an orderly queue.

I think all of us bumped into the concept during COVID. Even people with serious lack of awareness, were told of the importance of personal space. "Social distancing" they called it in the UK, where John and I were living over the Pandemic. That time around, it was an instruction designed to prevent infection and the spread of that horrible virus. It was a good introduction to understanding how imortant that 2 meters could prove to be. When queues at the Doctors office were replaced by long lines for vaccinations, I took my 2 meters with me. I still carry it around wherever I go. It now feels like a gift, not an obligation.

My space is sacred not because I think I am going to catch something, but because it is "foundational" - it is for me, what all other boundaries rest on. When I have access to my own inner space, I show up in whatever mood I am in, but I get to show up authentically. I don't have to absorb anyone else's energy. I don't have to be so accomodating. I just get to be. There was a time where I would have considered myself a bit selfish for thinking that, but not any more. My personal space is not medical good-manners, it is a requirement of touching base without other's input.

I used to enjoy being praised for my "availability" - both emotionally and physically. I was dependable and got kind of used accordingly. My own doing entirely, by the way. I learned (or was I told?) that being easy and flexible around the persona of "ask Vanessa, she won't mind" would be socially and domestically rewarding. Yeah... until it isn't.

You see, personal space is not about keeping others out, like it was designed for COVID, it is about keeping me IN. My space keeps me intact and able to function so much more effectively. I don't lose track so easily and my attention span gets longer. I don't have to manage myself around where I end and others begin. As an incubator baby, I've learned that this is quite common.

What is quite noticeable, is that personal space is not snatched away from us - it is something we give away gradually and unconsciously. It could be a conversation we just don’t have the energy for. A responsibility we didn’t agree to, but quietly accepted. A moment of rest we decide not to give ourseves, because someone else’s needs feel louder than our own. None of this looks dramatic. It looks like everyday life, a ping on WhatsApp, a knock at the door...

Over time, the cost accumulates. If I let it go too long, I start to get irritable without a clear reason. I get disconnected from tasks and the quality of my output suffers visibly. As an Interior Designer, this is pretty key. I always take time in my projects when all of the workers go home, to be in the space. These are not personal failures on my part. They are signals that my inner space has been crowded out. Of course, choosing to live without personal space doesn’t always look like chaos. Quite often, it looks competent. I can look like a confident, capable multi-tasker. But from the inside, life starts to feel almost uninhabitable, like I am living in my life rather than living from it.

This is where personal space reveals a much more important role. It is not only about rest or alone time. It is where permission lives. Where we can sense what is OK and what is not. Where we can distinguish between being kind and over-extending oursleves. When personal space is protected and defended, boundaries don’t need to be seen as agressive. They appear naturally, simply because we are in touch with ourselves, and this means that claiming our personal space doesn't have to begin with drama-filled declartions or shoving peope away, It begins with us noticing.

Noticing the signals, when and where my body tightens. When my internal sap rises a bit and I feel rushed and pushed. The sensations in our body are not character defects, they are intelligent warnings. I use the word warnings because the space we are talking about is deeply connected to safety. Not a COVID safety, or the absense of something life-threatening, but the presence of permission. Permission to stop and pause - maybe to even say "No" without having to expalin why. Taking the time to respond. To say "I'm not available that day", and not use the word "sorry".

In a world that is all about "instant gratification", personal space allows for response rather than reaction. It gives us just-a-minute to consult ourselves before being pulled away into some drama of mislaid car keys or "I can't .find my shoes". And in that moment, something steadies us and reassures us. This is why personal space feels sacred. It is where we are not pulled into shape by expectation, urgency or demand. Where I can hear my own voice without it being drowned out. Where I am not required to be anything other than be present.

Even though I don't love the idea that any boundary should be seen as changing, or a pair of ever-moving goalposts, I do feel that personal space can shift around with seasons, circumstances, and the capacity in my day. There are times when I can be more available, as well as times when I need to feel closer to myself. Honouring that rhythm is part of respecting the boundary itself. I used to wait until I was annoyed or a feeling exhausted, forcing me to reclaim my space. But personal space does not need to wait for the tank to be empty, nor is it a reward for coping with what life throws at us. It is a condition of being human. It's about balance and ultimately about awareness.

To protect personal space is not to withdraw from our lives. It is to remain present within them. To be a bit more anchored and able to meet the world without losing ourselves in the process.

Personal space is the quiet territory where we remember who we are. And in a noisy world, remembering may be the most sacred act of all.