Or What I’m giving up for the man I love...
Or How a Project Manager by profession desperately tries not to be so controlling in her personal life...
Or Letting faith guide my future...
Or Anxieties that spill out at 3am...
I’m leaving the comforts of what I have known my entire life. Sure I grew up in NYC but where I grew up in the Bronx it was more like suburbia. My neighborhood was filled with tree-lined streets. Each street had a set of houses. In each house lived at least 2 generations of a family. Families had 2.5 kids. Mom and dad each had a car and belonging to the PTA was a must.
That’s what I knew and that’s what I thought my life would be like as a grown up.
Of course, I grew up and for some time I went and did the single girl in the city thing. My dad introduced me to the West Village and I stayed there for awhile.
Eventually I met my husband and we began moving around. Each time, it was to a bigger and better place. Each time, I thought it brought us closer to what I thought was what grown ups did.
We finally get to this one place and although it wasn’t what we had wished for, we called it our home and spent half a year and a lot of hard earned cash into renovating it. All those renovations I thought were going towards something more permanent.
Now as I pass each room, as I open each closet, I realize how much I’m leaving behind to follow my husband’s wish. We’re giving up our car. We’re giving up our pantry. We’re giving up our privacy. We’re giving up our dining room. We’re giving up our closets. The ice chest and antique card table his dad gave us will need to be placed in storage, along with our bedroom furniture, all our family photos and wall hangings and memorabilia. The roll top desk my husband desperately wanted when we first moved in will also have to go; although he is delusional and believes it can fit in the new place. I’m sorry Lrudlrick, but we can’t even fit our couch at that place. There is no way a roll top desk is fitting in there.
We’ll need to sell most of our books, movies, cds, dining room table, couches and Lrudlrick’s electronics. Clothes and extra bedding will be donated.
Ok, we don’t have the place yet but understand that in NYC, we’re never going to find a place that will allow us to have these luxuries. We were lucky once.
Yes, I’m scared and yet I can’t tell my husband because he so desperately wants this. Everything he dreams of is different than mine. Everything he grew up with is so different than what I’ve grown up with. I try very hard to understand and try to be open-minded.
I didn’t grow up moving around and splitting my time b/w two homes. I lived my entire life with my parents and grandparents. We lived in a three bedroom apartment together until I was two and we moved into our house. I always knew my neighbors and local shop owners. I stayed in the same school and moved up the same chain as every other kid in the neighborhood.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not backing out. Every since we handed in our paperwork to our broker, Lrudlrick’s Eeyore cloud of gloom has lifted. A twinkle has set back into his eyes. Honestly, I’m excited about moving too but I’m also scared.
Every year we moved, we moved closer to finding a happy medium b/w our ideas. I thought marriage was going to lead to something more permanent. Now, I feel like we’re jumping backwards. We’re going back to the days of our 20’s where living in a box apartment was adventurous, rebellious and fun.
I’m not 20 anymore. I don’t want to be rebellious. I don’t want to be carefree about my living quarters. I don’t want to figure out how to store two bikes in a bedroom without tripping over them every day.
As I said yesterday, I have an attic mentality. It’s not easy to give up that dream of having my own attic where my kids can rummage through my memories and develop exaggerated fantasies.
Maybe I’m being unrealistic. Maybe my mentality is too old school. Maybe I married a free-spirit and I'm just codgy. Maybe I am a suburban chick stuck in a city girl lifestyle. Is it too much to ask?
Tomorrow, I’m sure my anxiety will subside. Today, I plan what to take with me to my next temporary shelter and what to pack away for what I hope will be something more permanent in the near future.
