“There’s somethin’ wrong, we can’t stay still” – Move Bitch, Ludacris, 2001
I once wrote about my rather potent desire to be boyfriend rich. Sitting in my entirely crap, four-floor walkup building, I was often reminded of the glaring fact that if I shared rent with someone, I could massively improve the quality of my living space. It didn’t seem fair, and it seemed like I was stuck. Someone read my single struggle and casually remarked, “Why doesn’t she just move?” Right, like it’s so easy, so affordable, and so possible. Just move. How dare they? Moving. That’s not a real thing that happens. People don’t just move because their building sucks and is full of cracked walls and floors and their windows don’t permit them to actually view the sky. People don’t just move because their apartments are depressing and old and dirty and disappointing. Wait a second… should I just move?
I wanted to move for a long time, but I sat on the fence about it because my self worth was low. I was operating from a place of fear, thinking I’d never be able to afford a nicer place, thinking the place I lived in was all I deserved. And the weird rusty nail sticking up and snagging my yoga pants in the living room reminded me of that, constantly.
I was operating from a place of fear, thinking I’d never be able to afford a nicer place, thinking the place I lived in was all I deserved.
My old place made me feel small, and quite honestly, not worth much. It’s weird to attach your self worth to your space and I get that, but I’d found a one bedroom under $2K in a desirable part of Brooklyn. Who was I to pass …read more