One Year of Shacking Up

This past Sunday, January 10th, marked  the one year anniversary of Chris and I moving in together. I can't believe that it's been that long, but I also can't imagine it being any other way. 

December of 2019, I was skating at Sea World's WWOI. I had left for Florida in November with a rough plan that we would most likely move in together after I came home. Over the next two months, we decided for sure. 

December 2019, we talked a lot about living together, and what it would mean. That conversation, though, had really started over a year earlier, and became a serious topic over that summer. We talked about every side of it, from timelines and expectations about marriage, to how we'd split finances, to how we'd make time to do things without each other. For me, though, the number one topic I kept coming back to was a little less helpful: how would we handle people's reactions?

I was worried about what my parents would think. What my grandmother would think. I was worried about the thoughts of people at church, and especially worried about my closest friends at church. I was worried I would disappoint someone. I was worried that people would think I was some kind of fake Christian, or just a terribly weak one. I was worried that somehow I was failing. And all that worry made me obsess, and attempt to prepare for, so many worst case scenarios. I was prepared to be openly ridiculed, excluded from people I loved, and get the cold shoulder from family. 

But, I also knew that I really wanted to live with Chris. I knew that after all the time I'd spent staying over at his apartment, I was happiest there. Going through normal, daily rhythms with him made me feel the most grounded, the most whole, and the most like myself. Our time together made me want to keep growing as a person. A year and a half into our relationship, I found our love the most exciting, and most nourishing, part of my life. 

We also knew that this was just really good for us. We wanted more space, more time, a routine. We wanted to live with less of an audience. We felt like the next step of our growth as a couple was to act like a proper, partnered couple. 

And while I worried a lot about the opinions of my church, I also didn't believe this was wrong. Maybe those reasons will be their own post some day, but suffice it to say, deciding not to move in together would have been a decision made out of fear of resentment, not fear of actually doing something wrong. Even on my most people-pleasing days, I couldn't live with the idea of that fear shaping my life. 

This year, perhaps, wasn't the easiest one to start our lives together: there was that pandemic, bouts of unemployment, disappointments, actual criticisms my church members, and coming to terms with some deeply rooted anxiety. But on the flip side, every single good thing that did come out of 2020 for me, is somehow linked to the happy little life we've made together. Without Chris vacuuming dog hair and doing home workouts beside me, this year really would have been unbearable. 

A year later, I am proud of us. I'm proud of the life and the cozy little  home we've built. I'm proud that in the face of knowingly opening ourselves up to criticism, we stuck together and focused our actual decisions on what we needed as a couple. I'm proud that we've both been open and eager communicators, to make figuring out what we need doable. 

We have so many more ways to grow, but the growth we did experience is something I'm very proud of. Happy one year of shacking up, Chris. I am so beyond grateful to get to be delinquent with you. 

For anyone thinking through this transition: listen to your gut, not everyone else's reactions. You absolutely know what the right decision for this moment is.