Y’all…I literally find myself in a weird place. I’m completely unable to commit in one area of my life.
Some of you may be like, “and? I never commit.”
The thing is it’s weird. I commit. I commit to all the things. I like commitment. It’s permanent and settled and means things happen. And, I like things to happen. (I mean control issues…I know.)
Through an inheritance, I find myself able to buy a house fairly easily, for the first time in…ever. But I can’t.
I looked at some (online…in person is a little committy feeling.). I liked some. But there’s always a reason. My family even sends me houses. I like those. But…I can’t.
But the second anyone says anything against any of it, I’m like yep you’re right. I shouldn’t build my own house…or buy that house…or whatever it is. I’ve suddenly become easily dissuaded.
For a while, I said oh my credit isn’t good enough (cuz I mean I can pay a down payment. I can’t buy a whole house lol). I called the bank last week. The lady was out of the office. My response…oh well…maybe next time. And I never called back.
So on a whim, probably to prove I couldn’t, I applied the other day. Approved. Oh…well when I search my bank to put it into their system it doesn’t exist so…maybe another time. They called me….I screened their call.
I keep telling people I’m not in a rush. That I’m taking my time. But truthfully, I just cannot commit.
Seriously?! What is wrong with me?
I’ve thought about it this afternoon. (You know, when I shoulda been calling the bank back.). I want a house. I have dreams for what I can do with a house. But I’m scared.
I’m not scared of a house payment, or living alone, or any of the normal things to be scared of.
If I really admit it, I’m scared that it means that’s my life. It means this is the lifestyle I’m committing to. If I pick one bedroom (I’m not though lol), it means I’ll always be alone. If I pick 3, it means some will always be empty.
I’m 41. I’ve lived the single life for a hot minute and most days I’m perfectly great with it. But it goes back to “this is not the plans I had for me”. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. I feel lost in a weird season.
Fully, internally, I realize the craziness of all of that. Houses can be bought and sold. Whatever God brings into my life (or doesn’t) can change whatever my living situation is. Maybe some day there will be another person. Maybe that person will love (or hate) my house. And we’ll adjust accordingly. Maybe there won’t be a person. It’s the variables that I can’t control.
I want a house. I want a house where I can entertain. I want a house of my own where I can decorate and welcome people in and minister in some way with my house.
I want a room for my arts and crafts and music (I mean it’s exploded all over the house now. Like there’s a piano stand in the living room…folded up nonetheless and paint brushes and markers on the bar.)
I want a room where I can invite people to stay with me if they want to. A room where someone can go if they just need it. A room for my nieces to have sleepovers.
And I want a room for me…to do all the things.
(I also need 2 bathrooms because I don’t like sharing that one room.)
In my head, I know what I want. It’s within my reach. I just need to get my heart to go along with the deal.
I need my fears to be irrelevant…because they truly are.
I just finished 100 Days to Brave by Annie F Downs. Maybe this is the next Brave thing. I’m not sure why it feels so brave, but it does.