We have officially been out, on our own, in our own place for two days. I don’t know if I like it yet, I am trying to get used to it. Our place, which we were so worried about being too cramped, feels too big. Our TV unit that seemed HUGE in my parents garage, feels insignificant in our living room. Our two pieces of art/photography/whatever seemed well thought out, they look a little sad on our giant white walls.
I never gave a thought to decorating in the UK. Probably because I knew I wasn’t staying. It wasn’t my furniture, what did I care if it matched? How did I become the sort of person that tries to match her accent pillows to her end tables?
But, I digress. This post isn’t really about accent pillows. It is about moving out of my parents’ home. For good. Finally acquiring a home of my own. All through college years and through my time in England I knew I would, at some point, even for a little bit, be moving back into my parents’ house. I had things still there. My books, a box of shoes, a jewelry box, etc. Now, though my parents have graciously decided to keep my books until I buy many more shelves, I am moved out for good. We threw away the box of shoes and the jewelry box.
We have our own furniture, which is new for us. Everything we bought in England was always carefully considered. Is it so expensive that it is worth shipping at the end of all this? Is it so cheap that we can just give it away? We chose to do without many things due to our desire to ship as little as possible. I never felt settled in because of this. I knew I wasn’t staying and my next home would be impossibly far away. Now, unfettered by shipping constraints, for the first time in years I can have things. Real things that other people get to have. I don’t have to limit my shoes. I can have three different sized frying pans if I would like. We may even really push the boat out and by Pepper a cat tree. We have our own couch that we picked the color of, rather than one the landlord provided. Though I have no idea how long Rob and I will be in our apartment, it finally feels like we are building a permanent home. We’ve bought a bed. Wherever we move next, all of our belongings can go in a truck, rather than be paired down to the absolute essentials.
I never dreamed when I went off to college that I would become a wanderer. I had to fly home every summer, making it impossible to collect a great number of personal belongings. Then onto England, with even less to my name. I know things are just things, you can’t take them with you when you go, but having them makes me feel like I am finally settled, with my feet firmly planted.