…and opening another. In February I’ll be moving into a new apartment, and I’m feeling both terrified and excited. For the past ten and a half years I have lived in the same apartment. I moved out at 19 and stayed put.

I love my apartment. It’s where I did a lot of growing up. I have spent countless lonely days and nights here. I have hosted dear friends and new acquaintances. I have had solo dance parties and binge watched plenty of shows. I learned a lot about my own personal design style. I put dozens of holes in the walls hanging up frames, moving them, adding shelves, taking shelves away, trying to use other frames to hide the previous holes and wall anchors. I gained confidence in taking care of tasks like assembling IKEA furniture, using wall anchors for heavy mirrors and antique windows, installing drapes, and painting each room several times. I pride myself of my ability to be self-sufficient.

This home has offered me security - both in feeling safe within the gated complex, and with a terribly cheap rent. In the 10+ years living here, my rent went up a total of $50. Before I moved in my grandma had been living in the complex for a couple years. When I moved in our proximity allowed me to be more involved in her life. I have long appreciated the nights where I would walk across the lawn with a bottle of chilled white wine and into her apartment where she had dinner ready for us. I would ask her questions about her past, her family history, who she really was outside of being my grandma. And although she had moved out and into assisted living early last year, her death this past December has augmented and changed the absence I feel of her.

Midtown is going to be my new home. Through my grandma’s death I will be receiving some money. Over my life she has contributed so much financially - paying for both my undergraduate and graduate degrees, gifting me beautiful jewelry when I graduated each time, and so many other gifts and assistance. I know that using the money she left me to move to midtown would make her happy, because it’s going to make me happy. The morning of the day she fell I met her for breakfast and spent an hour and a half with her eating and showing her my photographs from my first trip abroad. She was so excited for me to go when I first told her, and her appreciation of my stories and photographs made it even better.

I’m excited for a new design challenge. I’m looking forward to walking to the farmer’s market and coffee shops. I’m hopeful that I’ll make new friends and meaningful relationships. I’m thankful for the past decade in an apartment that has sheltered, comforted, and helped me grow. But now is the time to move on and move out.

xxo