I haven't had my own space since moving in with my future husband 20 years ago. (Yikes, has it really been that long?!?) I have my own closet in the bedroom, plus my own little storage corner in the basement. Technically, the bathtub is "mine," but it's in the master bathroom that we share, and come to think of it, the rug rat uses it, too. (There's a perfectly good bathtub in the main bathroom, but he likes this one better. It's a small price to pay to get him to take a bath without arguing.)
But now I have my very own space, one that's really all my own. I have agreed to share one corner of it for about 30 minutes a day so DS can do his homework while I finish up my work day, plus it gets his desk and school supplies out of the dining room. Still, though, it is very clear to everyone that he is visiting "my" office and it is not "our" office.
It's not pretty; there's no carpet at the moment. The foundation gets repaired in May, and I'll get permanent carpet in June. I might even get temporary carpet before then. There are also no baseboards, since they were ripped out at the time the basement leaked to help prevent warping and molding.
The pictures on the wall are my favorites, although they're just hung on "pre-existing nails" as we call nails that just happen to be there, not carefully placed in ideal picture-hanging locations. Consequently, there're a little scattered-looking, but as I said, they're my favorites, and I love them. They'll be properly placed after the walls get repainted after the foundation guys rip out and then repair the walls.
In the meantime, there are nice curtains, a a good coat of paint, a gorgeous new desk, and all the candles and silk flower arrangements from around the house. (Trying to reduce the hollow sound, since there's no carpet).
And it's toasty-warm. I'd expected to freeze down here, but it's surprisingly warm. I run the space heater occasionally, but mostly, the heater vent keeps it warm enough.
But most of all ... there's a door that shuts. It locks, too, but I haven't used it yet. Certain people (who shall remain nameless) who don't knock when I'm in the bathroom are actually knocking on my office door.
Even better ... it's mine.