Go away!
Gette: I am beginning to believe I will never again have the bathroom to myself. having a faulty doorlatch doesn't help. One day, I was all alone in the house, and I stopped and marveled at the fact that I had the bathroom all to myself. I wasn't in the room 45 seconds when a little paw batted under the door and the everlovin' CAT let herself into the bathroom with me. I. Give. UP!
Maleah: Personal Space. I am mildly agorophibic and when people hover and get too close it makes me want to scream at them. I've never understood why all people didn't respect that invisible bounadry.
Patty Maher: Social hugs. I hate hugging. I am very affectionate with my children. I hug them all the time. I adore them. Oh, right, can’t forget my husband. I am affectionate with him as well. My mom? You bet. My sister? Indeed. Others? Nope. Thankfully, my good friends know I’m not a hugger, so I’m almost never enveloped by them. And if I am, it’s at my initiation and it truly means something. Acquaintances? Parents of my children’s friends? Members of my church? Good Lord, the unholy thoughts I have when it’s time to give the sign of the peace. I stiffen up, I back away, I inevitably crush one of the kid’s feet trying to back away from the hugger. To the world of social huggers – and don’t even get me started on the social kissers – my apologies, but back off. A handshake will suffice. And peace be with you.

Don't ask. Don't tell.
Margalit: The obvious. My weight. Does anyone want to share their weight with the masses? I think not. And if you do, shut up because we don't want to know you are 5'11" tall and weigh 125. We hate you already.
Shanilie: Complaints. Can't stand constant complaining. Especially about weight. It's the inside that counts! I'm saying that to myself lol :-)

In the wild, you could get killed over this:
Still Standing: Food. Now don't get me wrong, I'm a typical southern girl and we tend to express love for others through food, ie. cooking for them and serving them ect. . And I can dish out an extra helping for my friends with the best of 'em. BUT don't ask me to share some yummy ummmy chocolate desert that I had just scooped into my bowl. The perfect amount of everything, and right after I've made my way to the most comfortable chair in the house and have began to enjoy the indulgence of a moment or two of ME time. While I pretend to be all alone, and ignore the toys flying through the air and the drinks being spilled on the floor and anything else that would normally get my immediate attention. It's really hard to ignore you when you climb up on to my lap and open your mouth up wide and grunt as loudly as you can. And then sure enough, after my husband climbs down the children will climb up and say "PLLEEEEEESSE!" and I assure you, this is not a polite request, this is a hard core demand. So, desperate for the peace that I was in search for I relinquish my oooy goooy, yummy ummy piece of self indulgence. All the while thinking that I will sneak another slice into the warm bubble bath with me later. . . And I think you all know the rest of the story. It’s a vicious cycle. . .
Mamacita: MY COMPUTER! A drink. ("Can I have a sip of your coke?" "Sigh. Just take the whole thing.") (The very thought of someone else's spit in my diet coke makes me go cold with horror. . . .) And on that note, my diet Coke.
Homemom3: I hate sharing my food and drink. Yes, I'm the type of mom that once my kids take a drink from something I was drinking it becomes their drink. I totally can't stand to see stuff floating and it'll gross me out every time. Ikkk. Food, is another issue I have and believe it or not I actually love eating at Golden Corral, that is until I start thinking of how many people were bent over the food I'm about to dish out on my plate. Now we just get there before the rush. :) Makes me feel a whole lot better.

Just... no.
Sarah, Goon Squad Sarah: I think it is totally messed up when people share toothbrushes. It freaks me out. Even sharing a toothbrush with my husband or children is repulsive.
Richie Ann: I hate to share lip balm.

Tired of going there:
Emzeegee: Birth stories. Frankly, lady, I had triplets. Anything you say can't compare - and what's more - I could care less.
Estella: One subject in which I am particularly sensitive is the simple fact that I have not borne a daughter. Sons, I have. Three of them to be exact. It is a fact which causes me great sadness, because there is nothing I desire more than a sweet little baby girl. And yet, it is one of those things that I must reveal on a regular basis. To strangers in the grocery store, to acquaintances or long lost friends. It always happens with a forced smile or a nod and a comment escaping from my lips that sounds something like "Yes, three boys! Such a handful" and then the inevitable answer I must give of "No, no girls in my future. No big deal." All the while, my plastic smile disguises the fact that my heart is breaking into a million pieces.
DDM: Food. But more personally, I hate sharing the damage that was much of my childhood. I can get ridiculously detailed in recollecting some stories on my blog about my struggles with parenting, and issues with my special needs kiddo. But when it comes down to re-telling those stories from back when things were.....bad, I just hate dredging it up.

Mine. Mine mine mine mine mine.
Tricia: I'd have to say everything. I like it to be all mine. :) The absolute worst thing to share??
Everyday Superhero: I hate sharing my birthday. No, seriously, this is MY day. My husband's birthday falls 13 days after mine. I have a friend who's birthday falls 8 days after mine. They are always clamoring for "joint" parties. I think not. Because, dude, then people are going to get the idea that they can bring gifts bearing the tag: To Everyday Superhero and Mr. Everyday Superhero. Not. So. Much. I'm only asking for one day a year for me. I don't think that that's too much, do you?
Heather: Everything. My parents never taught me how to share, I just suck at it, and don't like to share anything.

Amen, sister.
Rita Arens: Planes.