If You Want a Village, Be a Villager

Okay, bestie, let’s talk about something wild: sharing. I know, I know—capitalism has us out here thinking we have to own EVERYTHING ourselves. A chair? Buy one (or six, just in case). A disco ball? Add to cart, even though you only need it once a year. But what if I told you that one of the most radical, anti-capitalist moves you can make is actually just… being a good neighbor?

That’s right. Borrowing, lending, and building a community where we don’t have to spend money every time we need something? That’s basically a political rebellion wrapped in a cozy casserole dish.

The Moment I Realized I Was a Villager

Last week, I let someone borrow chairs for their event—for free. Because guess what? I had them, they needed them, and that was that. Then, I let someone borrow some extra disco balls from my shop. Same situation. I didn’t need them at the moment, they did, and capitalism didn’t have to get involved.

And let me tell you, it felt right. Like, what if we did this all the time? What if we stopped seeing every single thing we own as some sacred, hoard-worthy possession and instead just… shared?

But here’s where it gets real. I never grew up thinking I could just walk next door and ask for a cup of sugar. That whole borrow-an-egg-from-your-neighbor thing? Not my reality. And now? Between skyrocketing grocery prices and the fact that COVID absolutely wrecked casual neighborly relationships, it’s like… where even is my village?

Your Village Doesn’t Exist? Cool, Build One.

When we moved into our home, it was peak pandemic, so there was no Welcome to the Neighborhood casserole moment. And living on a downtown street instead of a classic cul-de-sac with white picket fences? Even less of a built-in community vibe. But here’s the thing: if the village isn’t there, you can create it.

We realized recently that we live just a few blocks from some good friends—walking distance! And that got us thinking: instead of worrying about “official” neighborhood boundaries, why not just decide what our neighborhood is? So now, everything between us and them? That’s our turf. That’s our village.

And before you ask, yes, I’m fully aware that this is how mafia families are formed, but let’s be real—if we’re going to have an underground operation, it’s going to involve baked goods and folding chairs, not whatever the hell Jeff Bezos is up to.

Capitalism Wants Us to Be Lonely

Listen, Jeff Bezos wants you to think the only way to get what you need is through a transaction. Because as long as we’re all living separate little lives, hoarding our own personal stockpiles of chairs, disco balls, and overpriced eggs, we’re dependent on The System™.

But the second we start sharing, borrowing, and leaning on each other? We disrupt that. We keep money in our pockets. We make it easier for everyone to get what they need. We stop playing the game the way they want us to.

And isn’t that a little delicious?

Jeff Bezos can pry my borrowed chairs out of my cold, dead hands. And even then, he’d have to get past my entire village first.

How to Start Building Your Own Village (Without It Feeling Weird)

Okay, so maybe you’re thinking, this all sounds great, but where do I even start? Glad you asked, babe.

• Be the first to offer something. Villages don’t form out of thin air. If you have extra, lend it. If you have a skill, share it. The easiest way to build trust? Be trustworthy.
• Notice who already shows up for you. The people I lent things to? They had already wrapped me in warmth when I needed it. Your village is made up of the people who show up—start there.
• Ditch the “every man for himself” mindset. We don’t actually have to each own a full set of power tools, 12 folding chairs, and a fog machine for that one Halloween party.
• Stop assuming you’re bothering people. We’ve been conditioned to think asking for help is annoying. But what if it’s actually the thing that makes people feel connected?
• Redefine what “neighbor” means. Maybe it’s not just the people physically next door. Maybe it’s the friends within a 10-minute walk. Maybe it’s your community of small business owners. Villages aren’t about zip codes, they’re about who you choose.

The Richest People Have Strong Villages

And I don’t mean money-rich. I mean life-rich.

When you have people who will lend you a disco ball or a drill or a batch of homemade soup when you’re sick, you are wealthier than Jeff Bezos could ever dream of being. Because community? That’s something money can’t buy.

So if you want a village, be a villager. Start small. Share something. Ask for something. Show up. Watch how everything changes.

And maybe, just maybe, one day soon, we’ll all be borrowing cups of sugar like it’s a 1950s sitcom—except this time, it’ll be an act of quiet rebellion.

xoxo,

Amanda Dare