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Have you ever had any of your personal spaces being rummaged/searched through? How did you feel about it (emotionally)?

aka: Burglary of your home, Car break-in, Your bedroom getting searched by someone (Parents/Roomates/Housemates/ or even Burglars), Your Backpack, Personal Electronics/Phone/Computer/etc getting searched, etc. (Including any seaches by law enforcrment / security)

Basically, anything that can be considered "personal space".


Why I ask?

Well... My parent's car has signs of being searched through last night, I think they forgot to close the windows all the way, and some random thief got in and looking for valuables, nothing of value wa taken, but stuff were all over the car, now I hate the idea of getting into that car again (someone might've slept inside the car, blegh 😖). That car feels so "tainted" now.

Like this cant be only my feeling right? Like, you just feel disgusted after someone touch your things against your will (especially if they are strangers).

61 comments
  • I just moved out of Los Angeles. LA is crazy.

    My first car in college got broken into, they stole my Sub in the trunk and my CDs, but they couldn’t get the radio out and broke the faceplate.

    I felt so f-ing violated. It was my first car, my home away from home, my freedom to go places. I was traumatized like ptsd. That lasted a long time.

    6 months later the entire car was gone, they stole it. Police took 2-3 days to find it. There was no tires, no engine, no muffler, and the interior was trashed.

    I was destroyed for a long time after that. Fuck thieves!!!!!!

    I threw a Xmas party at my house with friends, and one “friend” had a new girlfriend and they went into the bathroom and stole a ton of my moms makeup, jewerly, and other stuff.

    Then maybe a month later that same guy poured white paint on my car windows. What a nice friend I had.

    I had another friend move out of state, and he left me to take care of his dog for a few months… turns out he stole $1000 worth of stuff from my house, canceled my phone plan and never came back for his dog.

    My wife was almost kidnapped as a kid, it freaked her out and when she was home she had her parents check all the cabinets for the kidnapper.

    Years later someone broke into her attic, which the stairs led into her bedroom. That one also really freaked her out. She knew who the guy was too. I saw him once and he gave me a nasty look and I took his picture lol

    So glad to be out of LA now.

  • When I moved out at 18 I was sitting on my parents front porch waiting for my ride and my mom came out and started rooting through all my stuff. Destroyed the dried flowers my boyfriend gave me for prom, took anything she decided I wasn’t allowed to have because she paid for, broke a few other sentimental things while screaming. I just sat back and let her. Didn’t say a word. I had an eerie calm about me because I was leaving and she wouldn’t have any power over me anymore.

  • Fucking twice have I had basically all my belongings tossed out by someone else.

    When I was 19, I went to work on a cruise ship for 5 months. When I came back, my parents had sold or trashed literally everything I owned except for my bed, my desk and chair, and my computer. All my books, all my toys, collectibles, games and consoles, all the posters on my wall... Gone.

    I got married at 32 and my wife did the same fucking thing (not through divorce, either).

    I've had things stolen from me from time to time by strangers; none of them hurt as much as having literally everything you own taken by your own family.

  • we had a burglary once. the guy came in the back door while my wife was showering. took her bag, my laptop and a few other things and went back outside. tried to take the car but the key he had semi-miraculously had a damaged chip in it cause it went through the dryer so it wouldnt start. he pushed it down the street trying to start it and couldnt. when we found it the drivers seat and passenger seat were covered with what seemed like dog hair. the cops had to come take it to search it for fingerprints or whatever. we found my wife's bag down the street having been thrown into the stream. she still has the bag, vacuumed the car out and wiped it down, all good.

    another time, i was living in this shared house that had a very serious reputation for having tons of parties with all kinds of drug use. several people were selling out of there (i didnt know at the time). I came home one day to find all of my drawers dumped onto the ground, mattress flipped over etc etc. The cops had come in with their dogs and flipped the whole house. cops standing on my bed in their filthy boots. broken ceramic mugs. i had nothing to do with it and they didnt find anything in my room.

    the cop thing was just weird. but, after the burglary, i was paranoid for a good long while, months and months. it goes away after a time. we beefed up security significantly.

    the tainted thing youre talking about though, this is psychological of course. theres nothing wrong with the car. people go through shit at airport security and things, it doesnt taint anything. this is a violation of your privacy, sure, but not your personhood. autonomy and personal space is just a concept. deer and cows and foxes and wolves and swarms of insects and people have been in the space that your house currently occupies. its just a spot on the planet some temporary walls have been put up to keep you dry. your house wont be there forever, thats a fact. later, someone something else will live where you house was. their space wasnt tainted by your presence.

    just food for thought. if you have a therapist Id suggest mentioning it to them, it can help to talk about it. it almost feels like this about something else that this is a metaphor for, but you'd know if that feels true or not.

    anyway, it'll pass. it happens to everyone.

  • About two weeks after I moved out of my parents' place, my apartment was broken into while I was at work.

    I had a pretty removedin' video game collection and a basement apartment. They broke in through a window and cleaned me out.

    Kind of a funny story, I had worked a double shift and was pretty exhausted when I came home. Went straight to the kitchen to make some mac n' cheese. Came back out to the living room to watch TV with dinner and there was no TV. That was my first clue something was amiss.

    I couldn't stay in that apartment, ended up moving elsewhere before my first month's rent was up. I felt a bit better when I was in a different apartment, but I guess that feeling of my nest being violated stuck around a bit longer. I kept a bat by the door for a long time, and I still end up triple checking the locks because of something that happened like fifteen years ago.

  • Closest I've ever had is probably my dad searching my room for candy when I was younger or may be a year or so ago I went to see summer fireworks and came home to find out he went into my room and went into my electronic junk/storage dresser drawer and snagged some cookies I planned on eating when I got back later that night. I'm not super pissed about it since they were for my mom, but I'm not happy about it either, even to this day.

    As for the other incidents of candy snagging when I was younger, I can't remember anything specific so I don't feel anything about them.

  • My car has been broken into twice now over the last couple years, I've lived in different places but have a pretty nice car so I imagine it might attract some folks. I basically don't keep anything in my car so there was nothing to find, but it's always really upsetting to know. Especially the second time, when the contents of the glovebox were strewn everywhere. I kept only bare minimum paperwork, and a bunch of spare napkins and straws in there.

  • My family's home was robbed multiple times when I was a kid. It was not a good feeling. I lost bikes, my first computer, and my general sense of security. There was a drug den around the corner, and homes all over the neighborhood were getting hit by people who were living there.

    It was probably one of the factors that led to my lifelong lack of interest in trying recreational drugs.

  • I was partying at a friend's house, that night I slept in the back of my van. I must have forgotten to lock up when I got in, because I woke up to the sound of the front door- closing. I slammed straight from deep, morning after sleep to a massive adrenaline surge of fight-or-flight. I distinctly remember coming up with more than one plan almost instantly- There was a curtain between the front and back, so I couldn't see the intruder, and they couldn't see me. I didn't know if they had heard me wake up, so my first plan was to get the jump on them by bursting out of the curtain throwing fists. The second was to stay quiet, wait until they turned the engine on, then use that distraction to sneak up and choke hold them against the headrest. The third plan was to immediately scream like fuck and hope they bailed. In that half a breath of time, I had a bunch of plans made. But I distinctly remember being totally frozen and unable to move at all, like a stiff, useless dishrag. I eventually realised that there was no-one in the car, and stuck my head through the curtain. In the dawn's light I could see some random drunkard staggering down the road, leaning against cars for support. He must have noticed mine was unlocked, and his drunken curiosity led him to open the door. Thankfully, he must have had a moment of clarity and just walked away instead of trying to drive off using the keys that stupid past me just left sitting in the front seat. I'm also super grateful to his moment of sobriety for the decision to not take my wallet, which was also just laid out for anyone to grab.

    So yeah, minor compared to other real violations, but it certainly had an effect on me.

61 comments