I have been mulling something over for the last few months. Something pretty big. I’ve reached a major crossroads in my life and I think I’ve been putting off the inevitable. I’m going to have to make a decision I’ve actually been scared to make.
I have to sell my house.
Now, that might not seem like a big deal to a lot of people but when you understand that this has been the only house I’ve ever owned, I’ve lived here for 21 years, and, fundamentally, I’m not moving through choice … then you can see my dilemma.
Like with all major life decisions, I’ve been debating all possible permeations of what I can/should do next. Should I keep struggling to pay the massive mortgage on my own? How can I manage debts I’ve been left with and pay the mortgage and have enough money left to survive on? Should I sell? Should I get a lodger? Should I rent it out and live at my Dads?
This situation isn’t of my doing but I’m not going to sit here and complain. (Well, maybe a bit.) I just have to bite the bullet and do what needs to be done.
I have four estate agents coming round on Saturday, (only have to tidy up once then!) and it will be sad, it will be stressful and I haven’t even told Dexter yet!
I have hung onto this house to maintain some form of stability for my children when everything around them was falling to pieces. I have worked my arse off whilst being a single mum to provide for my kids but, at aged 42, I am just going to have to hold my hands up and say, something’s got to give.
Enough is enough.
As I was feeling melancholy last night about finally making this decision, I mentioned it on Twitter and a couple of my lovely Twitter friends have really helped me see sense. Michelle, in particular, summed it up beautifully:
“Home is what YOU make it, wherever that may be. You’re what makes it home, not the building.”
She is SO right.
I don’t know why I’ve been hanging onto this house for so long, pretty much killing myself doing so just so that I can say, “Well, at least I provided stability and continuity for my kids.”
They won’t care where they live! They just want to see Mum happy. Dexter might moan a bit about having to up sticks and live in a house we won’t own, but I’ll make it as ‘fun’ as I can – make him see it as an adventure and I’m sure, that once we’re eventually settled, he’ll be just fine.
We might even have enough money to start going to the cinema again.
And so begins a new chapter in my life and actually, now I’ve vocalised what I’m going to do, I’m even a little bit excited about what the future holds.