My first room in the house I grew up in did not change until I was 14 years old and my mom and I left my dad. It was 12m2 and at age 9, I got to pick a new wallpaper, choosing a white one with glitter which remains in that room until this day. I then had a lot of rooms. A lot. The longest time I inhabited a room from the age of 14 was two years. The life I lived came with a lot of moving, sometimes rooms, sometimes countries. After my London landlady stole my shit during an absence - a custom I was used to after myriad landlords from hell in Egypt - I decided buying debt so I could own an apartment was the reasonable choice. At least, if it was filthy, it would be my fault. So coming to Berlin, for the first time in my life, I had more than just a room for my life: I had 62m2 to myself. No furniture still, but good start, eh? The next upgrade is about to happen but since my dad is neither alive nor rich, it's not a house and never will be. But yeah, so, my boyfriend is moving in...
I have shared my life with many a kickass roommates. Tarryn, the ultimate roommate, became my flipping sister during our time in a shared house in Camden during the pandemic. We shared that rundown shithole with three men, all called Neil. Or, well, Neal, and Neel. No joke! Whoever lived with me in Victoria Road in Cambridge has a lifetime invitation to my wedding and technically I did not meet Miriam living with her, but I did eventually. I've been a lucky son of a bitch with the 36 people I shared houses with. Only two rotten eggs, but they weren't even that bad (one starved a cat in our flat but this is how I got my cat). But never have I ever moved in with a man - never mind moved in with them into an apartment I own. What is mine, will be his in 10 days. Crazy thought - good, right?
It's been a year and a half since someone was here, in this place, for longer than a few hours. I have some plants that I got that month, they were cuttings at the time and are now giving me shade on my tiny balcony. This place is a proper home, it took me months to make one and it's still not done. Everything here is mine and I made most of it, only bought a couch and a TV, the first one in my life, the rest was bought on ebay and restored. Never mind the soft wood floor I sanded with my own bare hands and ruined my back in the process. And now it's not going to be just mine. Or is it? Because it was literally bought with two in mind - it just took a little longer to get a second person in here. I love this place, so sharing it makes me feel like the only way to love it more.
I've built a friendship with these four walls and quite a lot of people who live in the same neighborhood. I am a village girl so anyone I cannot walk to cannot be my friend. The fact I will be coming home to my hottest friend sitting on the couch already is new though. There are the obvious thoughts of thinking I will never get to watch Diagnosis:Murder ever again. I am watching every episode for the 60th time right now because I know my boyfriend, or anyone, won't indulge me on that. I see the shower curtain finally becoming a problem because, well, I make do with what is there but I know a beefcake will have his problems. And of course there is the fact I have three pillows but like hugging all of them at various times in the night. Speaking of night, I sleep through it. But when there is another person, the smallest movement will have me on my feet - and once I'm up, I'm up.
But overall, at 34 years old, it's a welcome lesson - one I think is actually harder to learn WITH age, as I have a lot (!!!) of experience living alone. Never fully alone, but at least the bed was usually empty. Many people, in fact, probably every German, thinks it's too fast with 4 months of dating but, well, what can I tell them, I have even less experience taking it slow than I have with moving in together. None, to be exact. I move fast and I like it. Sharing my life with that guy after such a short time, by Christmas I will probably have a good idea if we are going to do this forever. I know, very un-German of me. Don't tell anyone, but we are also monogamous, silly us. Unsurprisingly, I have a long list of German exes (the total counts zero, ZERO!). Time for another lesson, but fast please, I am busy living an amazing life and time is literally all I need for that.
What I already know is that this will change my life drastically, but thankfully I like change. I understand that nothing good comes from being idle. There is no way to upgrade my rooms without actually allowing someone else to be part of it. The years of flatsharing came to an end, and I remember my first full night in my own apartment, knowing I would be alone in these four walls during a pandemic, scared me. And now? Pah! It's been awesome, completely freaking awesome. The amount of times I have sat on my couch with a glass of wine, looking at my Christmas tree or the jungle of plants I am nursing, knowing I made this all happen for myself, remembering the luck I had going from the glitter wall paper to one bedroom with a balcony, have had a profound impact on my happiness. And now I get to share that with another. Luck is a funny thing...
