Home Sweet Home?

aromatherapy bloom blossom bright

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Dear Readers,

when you open the door of your home and welcome people in and say, ” make yourself at home” are you being truthful or saying this out courtesy. The late two years I’ve moved four times living  in other people’s home. I live in New York City and the rents are out of control.  Most people are forced into a roommate situation.  Since the age of 30 I have lived in my own space with a small dog, or a cat and I once had a bird. I am 55 and often feel humiliated about my situation.

Each roommate situation it is suggested that I ” make myself at home” before I go on it is noteworthy to say that I am quiet, very neat I like every in it place. I burn scented candles, keep a dust free home and never walk inside with my shoes on. I think of home as a safe, clean, peaceful and happy environment to relax, rejuvenate and mentally and emotionally reset to cope with the struggles of the” Grind”.

Now, back to ” make yourself at home” in each place I have resided there wasn’t the feeling of home due to the consistent reminders that I wasn’t at home. People have a tendency to drop hints or suggestions about how things are done in ” their home”. For example, I have an unusual schedule meaning, I don’t have a Monday to Friday 9 to 5. I often leave home early and return late. When I enter I do so quietly, and on my days off I enjoy sleeping late because I don’t often experience the luxury of staying in bed. I am often asked questions like, what time did I get in? Or hear statements like, oh your home today. When I cook I like to do so alone with music and a glass of wine. Lately, I have had company in the kitchen watching what I do and questioned why I do what I do the way I do it. As a result I spend less time in the kitchen. I bite my lip, smile and practice patience because I am at the mercy of the homeowner. I am often angry and question why do people willingly invite others into their homes, collect rent then proceed to be a dictator by creating an uncomfortable environment.

To my readers, people become displaced from their homes for various reasons. In my case my last landlord sold the house I was living in and

didn’t grant me time to find another place. So, my journey has taken me two years and four different roommates. Gone is the feeling of ” Home sweet Home”. I long to feel stable and at peace. I missed curling up on my sofa and binge watching NCIS, while eating popcorn and drinking wine. I want the privacy of my own bathroom and kitchen. I miss having a pet, burning candles, listening to jazz and just doing as I damn well please.

I am keeping my fingers crossed I’ve been promised a one bedroom apartment that I can afford by the New Year 2020. What a glorious way to start the year in my own space. As you read this here is something to ponder, think about a time in your life when circumstances changed, think about the discomfort, the feeling of humiliation and the disbelief that life has dealt you a curveball that you weren’t ready for. Think about how you wanted to be treated versus how you were treated. In all of my living situations I was a means to an end. I do take comfort that my current situation gives me the peace of mind and space to reboot. My room has become my sanctuary, its larger, bright and allows me to be comfortable until I can unpack and hang my ” Home Sweet Home” sign.💖

Is your partner asking you for Space?

relationship-myths-busted-1021x500

Dear Readers,

In today’s society when people mention the word SPACE while engaged in a relationship, they tend to have a negative view about the meaning of your partner wanting space. I interrupt space as a need for a time out or a mental break. This time out or a mental break doesn’t have to have a negative impact on the relationship.

Watch my video and tell me what you think about space in the relationship.

Ready Set Go!

Dear readers,

When arriving at a reasonable age of maturity, making a fresh start is difficult. The modern term for feeling tapped out or hitting rock bottom requires one to push the RESET button, the question is how?

I spent years working dead-end jobs, so I pushed the RESET button, and at the age of twenty-eight grindmy way through college. The payoff was an entry-level position at a Theatre Company as a junior manager. Diligently working my way up and after thirteen years, upper management said to me that I had “Hit the Glass Ceiling.”

RESET

I achieved another degree in Education and advanced from teaching in public school to the position of college adjunct lecturer. Once again I knocked on the door of the Chairperson, and was told that my years of experience and dedication to my students has not gone unnoticed, but, I need a DOCTORATE to acquire full-time status.

RESET

Years of living comfortable, independently and privately in my own space, I had to down size and relocate to a closet size apartment. There are days that all I have the energy to do is sit in my favorite chair sipping Merlot and thinking “REALLY.”

RESET

I am going to make peace with my tiny living quarters. Maybe living like a minimalist is what I need. By June 2017, I will complete my final Thesis, not for an advancement in my career, but for personal satisfaction, and I shall remain dedicated to my students. I no longer feel the need to seek approval from an Institution that bends the rules to accommodate some, but play by the book with others.

Maybe it is time to take my finger off the RESET button and press fast-forward.

What Say you?

Is it Just Me?

Dear readers,

My son says, “Embrace the transition,” Well i say, ” excuse me for having a moment of insanity.” It’s been 22 days since I was ousted from my home of six years. I’ve never been without my own SPACE. I’ve relocated from one place to another but always to a place of my own for me, myself and I plus a pet or two. I’ve never had a roommate. The word roommate scares me and sends me into a place in my head that I don’t want to visit. I’ve lived alone for 23 years. It wasn’t easy at first this living alone. I was divorce at the age of 30 after six years of marriage. I made many adjustments like: learning to cook for one, how to sleep on both sides of the bed, to keep the mattress from getting lopsided. Eating alone and coming home to an empty house was the most difficult part of being alone. The bed is colder in the winter without the warm of that extra body. Over the years I had my own version of roommates’ dog, cats, three parakeets, a turtle named Franklin and a fish called bear.

I buried myself in establishing a career as an educator, developed my skills as a writer, playwright, and singer. Mother of one fabulous son and grandmother of three, at the age of 53, I can’t call myself homeless, but it feels like I am. A friend and her 24 years old fresh out of Boston College son took me in. So, what all the fuss? I have a good roof over my head, my own room with AC, close to the bathroom, and in an area of the house that is quiet.  It’s only the three us, we have different schedules very much like ships passing in the night. It took me 10 days to unpack and to personalize the space I now live in. I can’t say home, I either say the space I sleep in or the place I live for now.

I feel like a caged bird. I miss lying across my sofa and channel surfing. I miss my weekend Saturday breakfast tray in bed and the afternoon nap. Or coming home siting in my favorite, big, black, leather chair and relaxing with a glass of Merlot and listening to Joseph Hayden’s Mass in the Time of War. I feel like I’m tip toeing around. I worry if I made too many trips to the bathroom, or kept the lights on too late blogging, reading and grading papers. As soon as I arrive there I would prefer to go directly to the room I sleep in, but not to seem anti-social I sit in the dining room and chat.

I have spent 23 years of my life living alone. Besides having the occasional boyfriend. I dwelled in my own space alone. My son says that I should embrace learning how to live with other people. He has a point. I just might end up with a roommate, I live in New York City and the rents are $$$$$$$$$$$$. Living with a roommate scares me more than living alone.

Stay tune for more…………………………..

Invasion of Space

Public display of affection (PDA) Romantic Gestures or Not?

We have witnessed couples French kissing in public, or the couple kissing every two seconds, and groping each other. They don’t appear to be uncomfortable with public displays of affection leaving the people around them squirming, cringing and rolling their eyes in disapproval thinking “Get a Room.” The question is how much public display of affection is over bearing, and are there places that are off-limits like, public transportation, the beach, parks, and the middle of the street. Is public display of affection an expression of love or just bad etiquette and inappropriate? In some cultures, PDA is taboo and regarded as disrespectful. Why do people feel the need to indulge in public displays of affection?

What Say You?