Opinion Why I gave myself permission to take the best room in the house

When my interior architect and I first saw the bare shell, my caregiver reflex kicked in. “Let’s give this room to my in-laws, they’ll enjoy the views and the balcony,” I told her. But it became clear that the living room would be very small if we enclosed this space into a bedroom. So, we relocated them to a spacious master bedroom next door.

I then decided that my husband Amit should have this rather large study, since he works from home in the early mornings and on weekends and often walks around, making loud phone calls. I thought I’d confine him to a large “man cave” with a flexible sliding door to balance privacy and openness.

But the other available options for my study seemed claustrophobic and unsuited for a full-time workspace. Finally, nine months into the project, I claimed this coveted space for myself. Today, my home-office is solely mine but it’s inclusive — it is an extension of the living-room, open to guests. It’s a lounge for evening family gatherings and even an occasional site for Amit’s phone calls.

The effect has been transformational. My work productivity, clarity of thought and happiness levels have multiplied since I moved into it. The space reflects who I am, with women-oriented artwork, a cohort of feminist indie dolls, a Krishna pichwai and mementoes from my family. I’m less restless and more centred — a huge gift for someone living with bipolarity. And as I joke, it’s not just me that’s taking the high-speed lift in our highrise, it’s my self-worth, because my worklife is now centrestage in my home.

Yet, why was it so difficult for me to claim space in my home? Those who know me would be surprised to know how challenging it was for me to be unapologetic about my needs. They see me as confident, articulate, feminist. But my natural instinct at home was to put other needs before me. I know many women will identify with me. We may be good at investing in ourselves (like going to the spa) yet less confident in claiming real estate — a big material gift — for ourselves. I discovered it’s harder to be a feminist at home, because of one’s own natural instinct to prioritise others.

And there’s internalised patriarchy, passed from one generation to the next. A little voice in my head said, “I’ll make do with the smaller room — I don’t need the best.” “Others deserve it more.” “If I take the best, I’m selfish.” This was entirely self-talk. Neither my in-laws or my husband insisted on the space for themselves, but it took months to overcome this mindset.

Some might feel that I’m coming from a place of privilege. I’m writing about claiming a piece of luxury real estate, after all. Most women fight far more serious battles. So I turn to the pioneering feminist author Virginia Woolf, who in 1929, wrote that a woman needed “a room of her own and 500 pounds” if she was to write fiction, essentially arguing that women need independence and financial security if they were to become writers. Nearly 100 years later, her words continue to resonate.

And perhaps not just to me: Woolf’s words apply to all women. In our new home, our help Champadevi has her own bedroom, with ensuite bathroom, TV, air-conditioning, artwork and WiFi. She’s due to retire but doesn’t want to go back to her family anytime soon. For the first time in her life, she too has a room of her own.

Internalised patriarchy cuts across class, reminding me of the famous feminist motto of the 1960s: “The personal is political.” It points out that patriarchy and caregiving norms shape women’s choices, even in their most intimate spaces, across the privilege spectrum. My struggle to claim the best room for myself is not a quirky personal anecdote but a universal phenomenon of how hard it is to give ourselves permission to claim space in our personal lives.

Space is not just about walls and windows. Space, for women, is the true custodian of our self-worth. So when will you give yourself permission to claim the space you need?

Piramal Raje is a writer and public speaker