When we first moved into our house, I really didn’t like it. People would admire and tell me how lovely it was, how lucky we were, and I would do that half-hearted fake smile while thinking about all the things I didn’t like about it.
But mostly, it wasn’t that it isn’t a nice house. It was that I had some things I needed to work on, some things I needed to see. I’m so glad that as human beings we have the capacity to change our minds!
Because now I love my house. Really, truly love it. I love the house, the neighbourhood, and more. I am glad we had to move.
There are a few minor things I don’t like still. And one major. The extra cost. But I’m convincing myself that it is worth the cost for us to have a dry, insulated house. It is worth the cost to have my beloved walkway nearby still (even if I don’t use it nearly enough these days for either my legs or my soul!). It is worth having an actual ‘house’ with a yard, a garage, and a deck. It’s a good experience for us, learning to live like this, after having been in a unit for several years. Kind of the next step in being ready for our own house again one day, I like to think. Here we have more gardens to care for, and more lawns, cobbles that need weed spray, more areas inside that need dusting and vacuuming and general keeping-cleaning. But more space to move around.
I think sometimes it takes time for us to adjust to even the best changes, and especially those that we didn’t necessarily choose for ourselves. I didn’t really choose to move. It was thrust upon me. Even though I knew it would almost certainly be better for us to be someplace drier. So my feelings of ill-will towards this house were largely founded on my feelings of grief in leaving our old place. I loved that little place, even though we were renting it, it was ours for three years. It was where Munchkin first came home, it was where I unpacked our boxes after years of having our things stored. It was peacefully quiet, tucked away in a secluded corner. It was home.
But now this is home. Once I got used to the idea, I really liked it. It just took time, and I needed to be allowed that time. I needed time to unpack my boxes, to hang my pictures, to rant at the extra costs of moving and stress over finding a higher bond, to clean and to tidy and to sort my stuff and my attitude. I needed time to feel at home, to feel like I belonged rather than like I was living in someone else’s house. It took a few months. Going straight out onto teaching placement a just a week and a bit after we moved didn’t help. The house was chaotic for several months. But gradually, I got through the sorting and as I found a new ‘home’ for each thing, I found myself finding a home for me too.