When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)?
I just wanted to see if I could.
This was my thought process when I signed my name across the bolded line after purchasing my first home at 25. I wasn’t sure if that’s what I intended to do or something I needed to do. Thinking back it was probably both. I don’t remember dreaming of the day I would be walking into my first home with just my kid and myself.
I had just exited a relationship with someone who was the breadwinner and was purchasing a home in an area I didn’t want to be in, that was an inconvenience for me and far away from family. Marriage didn’t seem like something on his mind so i bowed out gracefully, packed up me and our child’s belongings and left to my moms.
Two months later I obtained the keys and I went to take another look at my home by myself so I can feel proud of what I’d just done. I was certain absolute joy would overtake me but it didn’t come. I didn’t feel proud. I felt stupid, I felt scared and instead of running through my home elated with my new capsule of safety and security; I cried.
“This means I have to pay bills” I thought to myself, “on time, and this means I have to stay at a job I don’t love no matter what”
SHIT!
I hope I can do this.
Long story short, I did it.
I’m doing it, until…
In Quest of Her 