Displacement

It’s been a while since I’ve moved living spaces voluntarily. I moved in with Miayah back in 2016, forcefully after a whirlwind divorce and a very upsetting situation. I hadn’t planned on moving at the time, as the divorce completely blind sided me. I hadn’t lived in that particular apartment with my ex for very long, maybe a month. Days before the split we’d painted an accent wall in the living room a beautiful robin’s egg blue. I still think of that wall from time to time. It was the first time I’d been able to pick a pretty color for my living space that was just for me. The move before that wasn’t something I’d picked either. My ex and I had been in a different apartment in the same complex and he decided that he wanted to move into a smaller space that would save money. I had no say in it as I wasn’t officially on the lease. Cleaning that old apartment fell into my hands as well; I received no assistance from my ex. It was the move before that, that was actually voluntary - back in late 2014. I had been in my sister’s house after moving from Idaho and I chose to leave to move in with my ex.

It’s been seven years since I got to move voluntarily on my own.

Being put in that position really makes you feel vulnerable in your own space. It took years living in our current house before I finally felt secure, finally felt like this was my space that I belonged in. I realize that we were still renting, but given that the property was owned by Miayah’s relative, that we were in safer, more stable hands. The rent wouldn’t rise without careful consideration, we’d have family that would help take care of the house, we’d have more of a say in what kind of maintenance needs to be completed and how. Obviously there are pitfalls to doing business with family, but we navigated it with grace, courage, and patience.

I’d moved in when my life fell apart. I’d moved in when Miayah and her ex (who is a lovely man) were falling apart too. I felt like a disrupter, like someone that didn’t belong but had come stomping in, screaming and clapping pot lids together like a child. I felt like I needed to constantly walk on eggshells, forever worried that I was invading their space where there were so many emotions being thrown around. I was told years later that Miayah’s ex feels like I replaced him in their household, that somehow I stole her away from him in a way. I still feel a little guilty to this day, despite being reassured otherwise. 

Like I mentioned, it did take years for me to be comfortable in the house with Miayah. I wasn’t sure about my relationship with her for a while. I knew we were close friends, and ever getting closer, but I was insecure. You may be surprised by this information, given how close we are now. I was used to being taken for granted and in a way, felt that I was pretty disposable. This has changed after a good amount of therapy and time, but I was so sure that once Miayah found another person to date, that she’d move on without me. I was certain that in future years she’d leave me the house to go live with someone else. I’d mentioned it offhand about three years ago during a girls night, thinking nothing of it, but found out that Miayah cried about it that night. Before that I didn’t realize how valued our relationship is by both of us. I’d thought it was more one-sided since Miayah is so carefree and unattached, but I was deeply wrong and hurt her by saying so. I still feel guilty. My insecurity injured her.

We’ve since discussed it and came to a funny agreement that honestly, I absolutely hate. Somehow we both came to the conclusion that at some point in the next decade we’d probably not live together but in reality, that sounds really shitty. I don’t have any desire to leave and I never did; I just thought that she’d drop me at some point, which is simply a throwback to my own personal traumas. This thought process is desperately unfair to Miayah and I’m sorry that I ever felt that way.

All these feelings are making a comeback as we’ve just found out that we’ll have to move by the beginning of 2022. The expenses have increased to a point that Miayah’s relative feels compelled to sell our house. It’s so scary for us. I’m sure you’re familiar with the housing and rent situation in the country right now, especially here in Austin, and this is a terrifying time to move. Combined with the expenses we’ve had to endure over the last year, the pay cuts we’ve both experienced over the pandemic, and the rising rent prices, our options are very limited, and I’m very upset. Somehow what breaks my heart the most is that Eebles won’t have her precious yard anymore where she can chase the birds like the little idiot she is. If we could buy the house from her relative we would, but neither of us is in a financial position to do so. Our option right now is looking like an apartment with about 600 sqft less than what we have now, with no garage. It’s going to be quite the period of downsizing which is also making me apprehensive.

I know we’ll make it through this. I know that moving is less than ideal when it’s not our choice, but there’s the possibility that we’ll save money, pay less in utility bills, and this gives us a chance to better curate our possessions. I’m not looking forward to packing, and I’m not looking forward to living somewhere else. I love this house. I love that we’ve made it into a home. Even so, where Miayah is - that’s home for me now. I don’t want to go anywhere where I can’t live with her. She’s made my life so much better than it’s ever been and I’m grateful to the point that I don’t have words. I’m tentatively looking forward to this next adventure and I’m glad that I can do it with her. 🍇