FROM MY LIFE

Housing & Compromises

We all make compromises, but can also voice our wishes

One subject comes up regularly during my coaching sessions: that I want to move to a smaller accommodation. Only thing keeping me back is that my husband doesn’t agree.

Our present situation

Up to July 2019, we had two kids still living at home, but then our son moved out, and we cleared out the attic room. I changed that into my photo studio, which I have used a lot in 2020, but not once in 2021.

On 5 December 2020, our youngest moved out, and from then on, it was only my husband and I.

Our house is a typical Dutch single-family terraced house, with the lounge, dining room, kitchen and a toilet downstairs, a landing, three bedrooms and a bathroom on the first floor and then a landing and a bedroom in the attic.

Honestly, too big for the two of us.

Our housing histories

My husband’s is short, and sweet, as opposed to mine. He was born in Rotterdam, and when he was eight years old, they moved into this house. Circumstances — his dad passing away, a child, and his mom’s stroke — kept him living in the same house, taking care of his mom and child.

Mine is so much different. I was still a baby when my parents moved, and I can’t remember living in the same place for longer than four years throughout my childhood. The longest I have lived in one spot is now, as I moved in with my husband and his mom in 2004, and we are still living in the same house.

What I would like

As said above, this house is too big for us. We use the lounge (it doubles as a lounge and dining room), the kitchen, the bathroom and downstairs toilet, and our bedroom.

That’s it.

That’s all we need.

My husband’s health has deteriorated since September 2016, and we both know it will never get to what it was before. It’s an effort for him to get up the stairs when we go to bed. Outside the house, he uses a walking stick. Inside the house, he doesn’t need it.

Yet.

I’m not getting younger either.

What I would like is to move.

I want to move to a flat, or the more expensive word for it: an apartment. I want to live in a smaller place, a flat with two bedrooms, a lounge (including dining room), bathroom and kitchen. A place with no stairs. A place that’s big enough for the two of us, and where we have no excess space.

He’s not ready, and I don’t know if he will ever be.

Compromises made

We have so many boxes on the attic — stuff I moved with me from Africa and haven’t looked at in 27 years, boxes that belong to our children, boxes with belongings of our mom’s who have both passed away, and boxes with stuff of ours. Those boxes weigh heavy on me, figuratively speaking.

Did you know that your belongings have energy attached to them? When they’re buried away in your basement or attic, the energy keeps building up rather than dispersing out into other areas (like a home should). This actually creates more feelings of stress and anxiety around these items that were once blindly stored away. From: How you can declutter sentimental items without the overwhelming guilt

Finally, we are going through each box, throwing out the things we will never use again, and I take pictures as I go along, keeping in mind:

Collect memories, not things.

I tell my husband I need to declutter and throw things away, so we can be ready to move when the time comes. I know he’s not ready and might not be for a long time.

In his own words: “I don’t like changes.” He said this after I had moved our bed a mere 50 centimeters to be closer to the middle of the room!

The compromise I have made with myself is to allow my husband to get used to the idea that a move is imminent. In the past I said nothing, but now I make no secret of my wish. I don’t constantly talk about it, but if the subject allows it, I tell him: I want to move.

I’ve tried, but this is not my home, and yet it is

When I moved here in 2004, his mom still lived here. She moved to an old-age home in 2009 and sadly passed away in 2011. We are both on the rental contract now, so on paper it’s mine too, but the thing is, this house never was my choice.

I have tried so hard over the years to make it my home. It’s not that I feel unwelcome in it — far from that! This is the place where our love blossomed, where we grew even closer together as the years passed, where we lived through exciting and sad times. We feel at home here, but for different reasons — him because he knew nothing else, and me because I am with him.

The latter seems to be less satisfactory the older I get.

My deepest wish is for husband and me to choose a house together. For it to be ours because we have both chosen it. For us to choose a place where we will literally live for the rest of our lives, because I know already this house will not be it.

We all make compromises as we move through life, but even then, we can voice our wishes and want something else. I know my husband — he needs time to get used to it, and when he does, we will move!

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