The Times They Are A Changin'

 

"If your time to you
Is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'."

I'm no stranger to moving and change. Between my two sets of parents and renting as an adult I've tallied up 28 houses in as many years. I can only imagine what all those boxes might look like in a football field! Through the years, I learned very well to cull and clear as I went along. But ofcourse, you make yourself at home in a place and you start accumulating more 'stuff'. It's easy to add things here and there to make yourself feel more at home in a space. You're not thinking about the fact you may have to move in a year or two - screw that, that's way too long term. You're not thinking about what it will look like then - You're just thinking about being at home in your space now. Over the last few years this hasn't been much of an issue. I've moved from house to house and there has always been space for my 'stuff'. But moving from house to unit - now there's a different conundrum altogether. And moving from 'my' place to 'our' place is an added ingredient in a cocktail of busyness, excitement, stress and summer.

Right now I have what I'm going to call 'the sandpit syndrome'. I don't want to share my things and I'm reluctant to let them go. Even though I know there's not enough room for all of them in the sandpit. Even though I know they're just things. Even though I know they won't all suit the 'style' of our new place. Even though I know I don't 'need' them all. Even though I know how we want our new place to look and feel. Even though MR has been entirely amazing when it comes to choosing furniture and bits and pieces for our unit. Even though I know he loves me and my style and it's not that I and they don't 'fit' or 'belong' in our unit. Even though, even though, even though.

I've realised that I've been having a bit of an internal struggle, a slight reluctance about taking that next step into 'we' land. There's that well known fear that you're sacrificing or losing part of yourself and your independence in becoming part of a couple, which I acknowledge as probably being one part silly, one part entirely valid and one part real. Now to be honest, this is not at all surprising. MR and I started dating 3 years ago and it took me 6 months before I could say the word boyfriend without having a panic attack and a further 18 months before we decided he would move in. It's been baby steps for me in this relationship and MR has been so amazingly accommodating of all of my shit feelings. 

The fact that only almost 3 years down the track we have bought a house together - well I think that's a pretty great thing in this little love story. A together activity. And something I am so unbelievably excited about I simply cannot wait for. We simply cannot wait for. To have our own home. Somewhere we belong. Together. I can't even explain how amazing that makes me feel. (And how much I hope it will bring my house to age ratio down from here on in.)

I know that the 'things' I'm giving up pail in significance to what I'll be gaining, but I've realised just recently that has been a bigger deal for me than first thought. And ofcourse it's jut the sandpit syndrome really isn't it. It's the fear of change. Of letting go. And the adaption to things not just being about you anymore. It's not actually about the things, it's about the mental and emotional shift that comes with the transition and compromise of 'me' and 'mine' to the 'we' and the 'our'. 

Here lies the next chapter in our book. And a significant one at that. And maybe the most frustrating thing of all is that we're in this silly limbo phase, waiting to move in. Where the rental looks like a tip because we sold all of our furniture and can suddenly see all of the junk that was stored in said furniture. Where we have piles of stuff waiting for the garage sale this weekend. Where we've bought a bunch of great new furniture (our furniture) that we can't have until we move into our unit. And that move is now just under 4 weeks away, but everything in between makes it feel like an age away. 

I appreciate this change. I want this change, deeply. Parts of my body are literally aching for it (this may or may not be from all the furniture moving and packing of late). There is nothing more exciting to me right now than feeling completely at home with the man I love. I can picture us in our kitchen together, drinking tea on our new couch together, sitting in our little courtyard together. I can see our friends and family there. It is ours. All ours.

I know the time will fly and we'll be packing and moving in no time at all. And when we walk in the doors, all this internal (now a bit external) battling will probably melt away. Or maybe it will stick around for a few months until we've settled in - who knows what the next chapter will hold. For now I'm going to allow myself this time to process. Process the excitement and the anticipation equally. I've got to say, recognising this feeling has allowed a little bit of freedom from the guilt I was putting on myself for it. It's also given me the perspective I needed to appreciate this moment of change and Bob Dylan's words have never felt wiser.

How do you deal with change? Did you have trouble transitioning to a 'we'?