Path to Deeper Character

It’s been beyond joyous to redecorate – to create this new home a nest made of my life.  Having a residence free of memories and past lives means there is only me to defer to; the present is my only reality.  My history is riddled with opinions and directions of exboyfriends, family, and friends.

While I am thankful for the people I call friends and boyfriends and family, the route to meet them was not always preferable.  I had modelled my actions on the expectations of others, and strayed too far from what had been expected and planned by suburbia: a four-year degree followed by the appropriate entry-level job, then settle down.  For me it had been decided I was to be an English teacher.  I was foolish and left college for a boy.  I did some hardcore drugs and made reckless decisions because of boys; when weed was just find by me.  Eventually, I refocused on myself and returned to college through online courses.  I tried to be a teacher, but found working with people with developmental disabilities a better fit.  I thought I wanted to teach literature, but truly I wanted to teach literacy.

I don’t know if staying on path I would have been as happy, or if I’d have gotten to the same conclusions at an early point, but now my home reflects a better suited narrative, and a deeper character.


Verve (7/3-7/14)

The benefit of moving is the cleansing action that comes with packing and unpacking.

The new apartment is smaller – the best possible way.  I previously had a two bedroom, and the spare bedroom, (rather than be for guests or an office) became a Monica Geller-style closet.  Everything that had been labeled for the curb ended up in that room.  The junk in the extra room became totems of my past, the luggage of life that’s weight slowed the journey.  Most of the contents did not eve originate as mine.  They were accumulated when friends shed them in their own moves.  I threw those away immediately, and for the first time in a long time the items surround me I had selected and bought; I am entrenched in my unique aesthetic.  The possessions that must be sorted have been amassed through my adventures.  The memories attached to them are my perspectives on the world, and not reactionary to gaining affection.  The artifacts of life all reflect my experiences and priorities.

This move has provided an opportunity of a clean break from my dusty history.  Moving allowed me to toss the collected ideologies and props, and retain the core – what triggers an emotional response in me.  My home is now an attempt to show off the best of me. 

Verve (6/26-6/30)

Moving is a stressful time for anyone, especially nesters like myself.  I’ve been in the same apartment for seven years.  I am a person that enjoys having roots and growth.  The instability of my youth has deepened my desire to have a home, to abandon gypsy life.

The new apartment is in the same building but I’m moving without any assistance.  I have friends that say they will help, though so far, after the first day, they have not arrived to help; or had to cancel at the last minute to stay at work.  This is acceptable to me because I can move most of the small boxes and furniture on my own, but I do hope that friends are able to come through with their aide on the weekend, when I need to move the heavy furniture.

Friendships have always come difficultly for me.  I do not know why.  I have always envisioned myself as a nice person.  Conversely, I have been horrible I relationships.  My boyfriends were always good boyfriends, but they weren’t good boyfriends for me.  Being in relationships required greater socialization than I can handle in any given moment.  I would rather be home – writing, drawing, cooking – than to be out in the community.  My home is a cocoon to rest and recharge.  It is a place where I can fix-up and modify the next day’s necessary identity.  The nomadic and public life is draining, removing the necessary recuperation period.