We’ve all seen the movies. Small town girl with big town dreams leaves her one stop-light home to go find herself. She finds a cute little apartment, adopts a pet, finds a job that she adorably fumbles through before finding her footing, finds herself, falls in love and lives happily ever after. That’s how it’s supposed to happen, right? Once you move out of your childhood home, that’s supposed to be it. You’re an adult now and your life is supposed to have a very predictable script.
Lol. Yeah….. Right.
I’m writing this post from the bed in the guest bedroom of my grandma’s home. Why, you ask? Because I had to move back home at 28. And, I couldn’t even go back into my old bedroom because someone else is already renting it from her… good times.
You see, the thing the movies don’t teach you is that life doesn’t follow a script. I moved into an apartment on my own when I was 24 and, I loved that apartment. I found myself in that apartment – it was my safe-haven, my cupboard under the stairs (any Harry Potter fans in here?). But, it was 30 minutes outside of the city where I worked, the city where most of my friends are and, where I spend the vast majority of my time. So, after 4 years in the home I had created for myself, I realized it was time to move into the city and closer to my actual life.
And, then it hit me, I’m close to 30 and living almost paycheck to paycheck, with no substantial savings to speak of and, moving is expensive. And moving downtown, into the capital of your state? Way more expensive than my apartment complex that was 30 minutes away in the middle of a cornfield. With my current salary, I could swing it but, it would put such a strain on my budget that I wouldn’t really be able to do anything at all outside of go to work and the gym.
After taking a long, hard look at my budget, my living situation, and (honestly) my life as a whole – I decided it was time to move home for a few months as I save up some money and then, I’ll make the move to Columbus and, what’s even better is I’d made the decision to get a place with 2 of my closest friends when it came time to move.
So, here I am- 28 years old, in a bed that isn’t mine in the house I grew up in, figuring out my finances and, gearing up to live with roommates for the first time in almost 5 years. And, the one thing I’m learning is that it’s OK.
When I first started telling people I was going to move home before finding my place downtown I was so embarrassed. ‘It isn’t supposed to be this way’ a voice in the back of my head would whisper every single time I discussed it with someone. ‘You’re supposed to have your shit figured out by now’. But, the more I thought about it the more I realized that shame I felt for it was completely stupid and unwarranted. If I would have stayed in my apartment on a month to month lease until my future roommates’ leases were up, I wouldn’t have been in a good financial spot.
Could I have done it? Sure. I could have made it happen. But I would have been so damn stressed and wouldn’t have been able to get excited for the home and the life I was getting ready to create with these 2 people that I love. Moving home for a couple of months was the right move for me and, it’s going to put me in a much better spot when the time comes.
And then there’s the fact that I’m close to 30 (will be 29 by the time we’re living together) and, moving in with roommates for the first time since I was 24 years old. That carried its own baggage and insecurities. Aren’t you supposed to live with roommates when you’re younger and then, live on your own when you’re older?
Again – seems like I’m working in reverse. But the truth is I’m tired of living alone. I’m nowhere near ready to live with a significant other. And, I’m ready to share a home with a person (or people) that make my soul happy. So, why the hell not move in with roommates?
So why do we do this? Glamorize a set path and preach that this is what life is supposed to look like? We give all of these checkboxes and timelines and if you don’t accomplish the tasks set forth by a certain age, you’re failing.
· Moving back home past 26? Failure.
· 30 and single? Failure.
· 30 and no children? Failure and probably barren (yay).
· 29 and moving in with roommates? Failure.
· Didn’t graduate college? Failure.
We put so much pressure on people to accomplish these milestones that we don’t allow them to take time to breathe and figure out if it’s what they really want. So, then they end up resetting even later in life than if society would have just left them the hell alone to figure out what they actually wanted in the first place.
So, if you’re reading this and you feel like you haven’t checked off enough boxes yet in life or, you feel like you’re working backwards… I guess what I’m trying to say is this:
There is nothing wrong with figuring it out on your own. You’re allowed to do whatever is necessary to design a life that you love, a life that you don’t feel the need to take a vacation from. You are not only allowed but should be encouraged to start over and do what it takes to find your bliss. You don’t have to hold the guilt and the weight of the world on your shoulders. And, if you find yourself at 30, 40, 50, 60+ living with roommates, unmarried, doing things against the grain- that’s absolutely. Fucking. Fine. As long as you’re happy, being fulfilled, and setting yourself up for success… then you’re doing the right thing. Regardless of what that looks like by societies standards.