As I mentioned last week, we’re building a new home which is super fantastic and exciting. And since we’re definitely not the 1%, it means we had to sell our old house. So over the past few months, we’ve been packing and cleaning and repairing our little hearts out to get our sweet townhouse on the market.
And that’s when the tears started. It finally feels real. We just went through the mortgage pre approval process for the new house which means the beginning of a new adventure whilst letting go of an old one.
I cried when we packed up our wedding photos. I cried when we moved out big pieces of furniture, leaving the rooms echoey. I cried when we sat on our bedroom floor after disassembling our bed. And when we turned off the lights and shut the door for the last time, I cried some more.
Now, I’m a fairly easy cry. Commercials, human interest stories, even a powerful image can all get me to shed a tear or two. I accept that about myself and am generally not surprised when I find myself tearing up randomly. But I don’t think I was truly prepared for the flood of emotions that came with putting our house on the market. Honestly, it was a tad embarrassing. Why was I so attached to a place when the people and the stuff in it were coming with me?! And we were moving because we wanted to! To our dream house in fact!
We officially sold the house last Tuesday. Our house. The place where we fell in love, got engaged, planned our wedding and come home to after our honeymoon. It’s where I counted down the days for A to return from deployment. It’s where B howled and cried at the top of his lungs until I put him in bed with me the first night he was home. It’s where I cooked my first Thanksgiving dinner from scratch, heck, my first dinner period!
It’s where I became whole again.
I bought my townhouse when I was 23 years old, all on my own. At that time, I couldn’t have guessed all that would happen to me in the next four years. I was too busy processing what had happened in the past two. In that time, I had graduated college, started a real job, moved back home to live with my parents, had my heart broken and lost someone incredibly close and important to me.
Unlocking the door to that house was me moving on. It was me picking myself up by my bootstraps and looking ahead instead of wallowing in the what could have been or the what should have been. It was me starting my life again, my new life.
So yeah, selling that house was emotional but I can’t wait to move into the new property. Before we bought the new house, my friend told me that Brinkleys have a branch in Wimbledon that I could visit, but I wanted to stay in the USA with my family. Living in Wimbledon would be pretty cool though! I was attached to this place, to who I’d become in this place, to the story of growth, of heart break and of learning to live again that I wrote there. So yes, selling those four walls that made me cry.
And that’s ok.