My Home

I like a good meme, one that captures some aspect of human existence or expresses a truth that resonates (or a good humorous one!). I return to this one somewhat regularly.

If we think of our lives as a series of interconnected stories that form one large narrative, we can see various chapters that help define it. Like any good novel, parts of the plot will carry over from one chapter to another, but there come points when there is a clear and significant change in the setting, the action, the characters, or some combination of these. As the creators of our own narratives, sometimes we resist the urge to bring a particular chapter to a close, even when we sense that the time has come to do so. Letting go may feel too difficult, or the outline of the next chapter too uncertain. But as the meme reminds us, until we stop re-reading, or dragging out the previous chapter, we cannot move on to a new one.

I wrote earlier this year about letting go of various things in my life. One of those was the nest I had lived in for the past 3 years. I was very fortunate when I divorced and came out publicly that my brother graciously allowed me to rent a townhome he owned here for rate I could afford at the time. It allowed me to get on my feet and establish myself financially and socially, at a time when things were pretty rough for me. I don’t know how I would have made it through that time without that. My youngest child continued to live with me there, after a very brief period of living with their aunt and uncle. While happy to provide a nest for them to transition from high school into adulthood, their presence in the living space impacted my ability to create the home environment I desired for myself. Last summer my oldest child also moved in with me. I was delighted to welcome her home after several years of living apart, but adding her to the mixture shifted the environment still further from what I wanted and needed for myself. As time progressed, I recognized that I needed to change this situation, for my sake as well as theirs.

But I hesitated. The townhome was a good living space in many aspects. It was comfortable and convenient. It felt safe. At the same time, the energy within that space drained me, inducing a sort of low level stress at most times that robbed me of peace. I sat in this tension for quite some time. Inertia was easier than making the decision to disrupt the status quo for myself and my children, even if that status quo was not what I really wanted for myself. I kept rereading the previous chapter, not willing to step out boldly and start the next one.

Until this spring, when I finally took that step. Encouraged and supported by my closest friends and in conversation with my therapist, I acted on the intention I had in mind for a long time. I told my children that they would be needing to find new living arrangements for themselves and proceeded to find a place of my own. I located a comfortable little apartment, signed a lease, and moved in at the end of June. It’s in the same complex where one of my closest friends and her mom live, so I have chosen family as part of my community.

I’m delighted to have this space, to create the environment and atmosphere I want for myself, to enjoy a home that I want to be in and where I want to welcome my friends. Yet it has not been easy starting this new chapter. This is the first time I have lived on my own in my entire life. I married while still in college and spent my entire adult life living with family. This is a big adjustment for me, especially as someone who is highly social. Frankly, it feels scary at times. When I got my keys the first day, I walked through my new home and felt the weight of its emptiness and the grand adventure I was embarking on. And I cried in the face of it. Thankfully the friend who was with me wrapped me in a warm embrace, welcomed the tears and breathed confidence and peace into myself and my new home.

Now that I have moved my things in and begun to get settled, the initial anxiety is subsiding and the positive energy of starting a new chapter is becoming more pronounced. This is the beginning of a new chapter for me, with new possibilities and opportunities. It’s a blank page, waiting to be written, as one of my favorite songs says. I don’t know yet what this chapter holds, but I am excited to write it and am grateful for this new space that will form a key part of it. For the first time in my life, this is MY home and I look forward to shaping it into the space I want it to be.