I have had a constant fear of permanence that has led to the ‘Three Year Periods” of my life. I have never attended school for more than three years. I have never lived anywhere in my adult life longer than three years. No job longer than three years and the only relationship that lasted more than three years was with C. and I spent a good portion of those years trying to destroy that. In short, I fear permanence.
I lived in my house for three years before I finally treated this as my home. Maybe it was the fact that I was content with being here past the three year mark that I decided to shape the rest of the place outside my bedroom to something that belonged to me. That simple step was done by adding family pictures to the place. Now this place is my home. This place has been remodeled and it’s still my home. The carpet is what I chose, the kitchen counters are my pick as well. Nothing here simple came with the place. Nothing here is a remainder of the former owners. This is my home.
This is the place where I’m supposed to go to when I feel frightened or lost. This is where my family lives. It is where I raise my daughter full time and keep her on a routine so she can feel safe and loved. This is a place I bring people I want to let into my life more than the average, casual acquaintance. This is a place I come to after a long trip or stressful event that I can take a deep breath or crash in my bed and know all my creature comforts are here when I need them. I have lived in this house longer than three years and I have the right to call it my home.
I write this because the past two weeks I have spent wondering what is going to happen next. Will there be a battle for me to keep it? Will I spend the next few months feeling like a prisoner in my own home? Will my life be turned upside down because of this place? I don’t know what to expect and for that my stress levels are at an all time high. Little by little, my home is turning back into a house I currently live in. The aura of permanence is fading and I will not stand for that. I intend to fight for this place. Preferably in a peaceful way where all parties can agree to original ideal and life can quickly return to its scheduled normalcy. But if it can’t I will fight tooth and nail for my home. I will exhaust every legal avenue and lay waist to bridges formed to keep my home. This is not just an address anymore. This isn't just walls, floors, a roof and furniture. This is a place I intend to put in roots and raise my family and I will not give it up gracefully.
These are my terms that I open the door for a peace agreement. This is my declaration of independence.