Last week saw me moving into my eighth house since leaving home for University. I've been chopping and changing jobs, locations and therefore houses a lot over the last seven years. I've lived in students halls, house shares, a cute terrace house for students (in a downstairs converted dining room - bedroom), a flat with four dutch girls in a huge canal side house in Amsterdam, then with a Russian expat bio-chemist student (again in Holland); above a high street in London, over looking a river and now a small two bed semi with a garden.
Of the last seven, all but one or two I have mostly fond memories of. Looking back, the only one I really can't think of any good times in is down to certain choices I made at the time. But this isn't about naming and shaming the reasons and people (myself included) that caused those living situations to be less than idyllic. I want to talk more about the insanity of the fact that I'm 25 and have lived in eight different places, not even including the times I've moved back in with my parents (one big stint for about two years...). The crazy thing is, it seems like this isn't unusual for 'our generation'.
Take my boyfriend for example. He lived in 3 different houses during University. On graduating he spent four months sharing a van in Austria, then back in with his parents, and then with me into our last two places (see above: over looking a river and a small two bed semi with a garden). That’s six, and he only graduated in 2014. Three years ago.
One of my closest friends at work, she's now living in a flat in Acton with her boyfriend having lived in a number of house shares during and since University.
I know a tonne of other people who have moved home or are moving from one house share to house share in London to deal with crappy living situations and hellish housemates, a cycle that seems to continue well on into your thirties.
Of course, there are exceptions to the rule. My cousin seems to have things figured out in the way our parents hope, and most people our age only dream of. Her and her boyfriend saved long and hard for two years whilst both living with his folks. They've just bought their own home, and unlike me, this is her first move (apart from into the in-laws) since leaving University. Pretty sweet huh? I couldn't be more pleased for them and am genuinely chuffed to see how they're re-decorating and making this house their home.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm well aware that I'm up to this number of moves because of the decisions I've made. Taking on an international internship, moving to London, moving in with my parents again to give self-employment a shot, then heading back to work in London this time with a commute. None of these decisions I regret and I would probably make very similar choices again if I had the chance. I had some wonderful doors opened, and am very grateful to everyone who made these things happen. Which brings me round to my point.
I'm not saying this number of moves is a bad thing. Just one of the seemingly many things our generation of 'never quite feeling satisfied with life' seems to have in common. I enjoy reading articles about how 'we' as a Generation - X, Z, Millenials, whichever one we are, will struggle to ever really feel satisfied. We are used to instant gratification. Want something? Buy it on Amazon in 3 clicks, it will arrive tomorrow and you won't have to pay for it for another six weeks because of the 0% interest credit card we are totally reliant on. Want social affirmation without having to leave the sofa? Post a photo on instagram with the correct hashtags (the more generic the better - #anythinganimal & #thenameofanysport always seem to do pretty well for me) and your phone will come alive with likes and attention. Who cares that you don't even know 90% of the people double tapping your picture.
Maybe when I moved into home number 6, 7 and now 8, thinking they would be my forever homes for the next year or two I was already setting myself up to fail. Expecting that instant feeling of 'this is your home' (the same one you get when your phone buzzes with likes) without having lived there and spent time turning it from a house to a home. These things should take time. Also, who am I kidding thinking that this would be the place that gives that warm fuzzy perfect 'forever home' feeling, when I already know I'm only going to be there for a set number of years, let alone the fact that I'm still only renting.
But who knows, maybe number 8 is the one. I just need to get some bookshelves in, more plants in each room and I'll be well on my way....
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