This week we almost bought a house. That’s the dream right? The house, the white picket fence and the family? Is that your dream because it’s definitely not mine. I didn’t realize that until today. It turns out that buying a house and living in the suburbs is like my own version of pre-colour Pleasantville.
Last week we went through the whole process. My fiance and I spoke to the bank, we saw the land, we saw display homes and picked the house that we wanted. The house was perfect but something didn’t sit right. For a week I have had this inexplicable feeling inside me that was telling me that something wasn’t right. I had a mini break down and an alcohol fueled writing/self-questioning session as a result.
The houses are being built in about fifty minutes away from the city in the suburbs. I have a lot of issues with living in the suburbs. I grew up in the suburbs and I have spent my whole life trying to escape my childhood. I think that I got it into my head that if I moved out of the city then revert into someone that I never wanted to be. Would I be able to live and thrive in the burbs?
So I spoke to my psychologist today about my theory that if I dealt with the issues that I have with the suburbs before we move then I would be ok. She asked the hard question, the question that I didn’t want to know the answer too, the question that would blow our dream house up.
“What if you deal with all of your issues but you still don’t to live in the suburbs? What if you’re just not a suburban person?” Would it kill me? Would I die slowly inside?
We were meant to sign the land contracts today. I have been anxiety central for since we did the walk through. I just assumed that I was anxious because I hadn’t had the time to process but as soon as she asked the question I knew she was right. The tears started to flow as I realized that I had said yes to the house and the dream because I thought that was what was meant to come next for us. It was just another box to tick off of the list of things that I thought I was meant to do with my life.
I had to ask myself what was the point of moving to the suburbs and building a four bedroom house for ourselves and our family when there is no family and there may never be? Can you imagine building a house in a suburb that you’re unfamiliar with, with strangers all around and their families and being so far from everything you know? It’s not what I want. I could just see myself dying slowly and my mental health fading the longer I spent in that environment. I might change my mind but right now, without the children to move to the suburbs for, it’s the city where I want to stay.
The suburbs are my version of a nightmare. Weekend BBQ’s, Tupperware parties, baby showers are a special kind of hell. I don’t mind these things occasionally and for the right person but for this to become my life, that’s something that I have never wanted. I can feel my mental health slipping at the thought of all of that pastel and backyard BBQ’s. My dream involves us living in the inner suburbs, weekends at South Melbourne Market, dinner at Eau De Vie and date night at the Theatre. To me that sounds perfect.
Today I have done a lot of crying, a lot of self reflection and a lot of reevaluating of the dream with myself and my fiance. It’s her life too. I am lucky that she loves me and understands that the life that I saw ahead of me is not something that I’m ready for. It was like we were skipping ten steps. I still want to live in the city, to be close to work, to go out and have fun.
So my soul mate and I have compromised. We are a great team and the compromise was easy to come too. We are moving. We’ll move to the south side which works well for both of us and puts us in the general direction of where we wanted to go all while keeping me reasonably with in my comfort zone.
It’s like a weight has been lifted off my chest. No suburbs for us. We will continue to live the good life in the city and you never know… If children do become something that we want, maybe they can be city kids?!
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