This August, my roommate and I decided to part ways. This wasn’t one of those situations where we couldn’t wait to be rid of each other (at least not on my end!), but a natural evolution of life and the taking of different paths. After many painstaking hours with my budget, soliciting advice from everyone I knew, and days of waffling I made the decision to rent the town home that we had rented together all by myself. It was a huge step for me, guys, and one that I was a little nervous about. I’d lived alone before, as you know, and it did not go well at all.
But you know what? Living by myself has been a breath of fresh air. I’ve had the privilege of having some amazing roommates and the Lord knew I needed them, especially since I moved to Colorado, but roommates automatically add in a layer of uncertainty. In the 10 years since I graduated from college, I’ve had about 15 roommates. When you live in California, roommates are somewhat of a necessity as the price of a one-bedroom apartment is astronomical, especially on a “just out of school” budget. I remember spending the first night in our new place with my then-new roommate, Christi. We barely had a stick of furniture to our name, no microwave (which I confess was somewhat of a shock), and barely any kitchen tools. Which was fine, because we only had one drawer to our name in the kitchen. We made spaghetti and green bean casserole and I spent that night sleeping on a box spring. At some point along the way, a family from my church was offering to give away a couch and love seat and we snatched those right up. They were a “lovely” country green and maroon plaid with recliners built into the end seats. But hey! We weren’t picky.
When I moved to my next apartment, a one-bedroom with my roommate Holly that sported…wait for it…bunk beds, we inherited a purple couch from one of Holly’s friends, Sam. While I disliked the color purple with a passion, I did grow to really like that couch. It was a comfortable statement piece and served us well for our time at the “pink palace”.
Having made the decision to move to Colorado with my job at the time, I once again found myself couch-less. So, my Uncle Neal that lives in Denver took pity on me and gave me a couch, love seat, and lazy boy for my use. I slip-covered the couch and love seat to go with my decor, of course, but was grateful for the sturdy furniture. When my roommate Anne moved out, I sent the couch and love seat with her since I was moving into a house with two roommates who already had the couch situation nailed down. I retained my recliner, and let the rest go.
My next living situation was a basement apartment rental from my friends, Bryan and Bridget. Getting a couch down those narrow steps would have been nigh impossible, so I purchased/inherited two more chairs and lined them up for seating when I had company. They worked just fine, though the appearance left a little something to be desired. And when I moved in with my most recent roommate, Ashley, she purchased a couch for our cozy living room.
You can probably see where this is going, right? I’ve had a lot of couches, but I’ve never really picked one out or bought one for myself. And so, when I once again found myself couch-less and living on my own successfully for the first time, purchasing a couch became a statement of freedom. Not necessarily freedom from roommates, per se, but freedom in knowing that I COULD stay by myself and be perfectly content doing so. There’s something about having the knowledge tucked away that you can afford your life and enjoy your home in whatever way you like that is immensely satisfying. I didn’t expect to love living alone, but I really do! I love it.
Now with every good thing, there’s a pitfall, right? I don’t want to be one of those people who gets so set in her ways that she can’t serve others, be flexible, prefer others above herself, etc. So, I try to balance my life with being active in my church, outings with friends, and DEFINITELY craft group. (That’s a must.)
But back to the couch. I went several different furniture places, sat on many-a-couch, and price-comparisoned my eyes out. I whittled down my choices to two options and brought a trusted friend (thanks, Katie!) along for a second opinion. I called my parents and talked it all through with them. I sat on the finalist six or seven more times in the store. And then, I made my purchase. This couch may be the only item of furniture in my house that I didn’t procure at a garage sale or get as a gift. And I’m so proud of it! Not just for the couch itself, but for what it represents…conquering the fear of staying by myself and taking ownership of my life. Plus, it’s SUPER cute. SUPER. I love that it’s deep enough to curl up on and the seat cushions are tall enough that they hold their shape. I love the back decorative detail. I love that it’s neutral but looks “different”. I love that it has a vintage vibe to it. And I love that it’s the perfect nap couch.
This couch rocks my face off. And I’m not just saying that! Drop by and sit on it for yourself. 🙂