Ever since we got to our new home in the country, I’ve felt like I’ve failed.
It took me a while to realise why I felt that way, and even longer to work through it. Still, the issue jumps to the front of my mind when I least expect it. The time between it popping into my mind is longer each time and as experience has shown, once I work through the issue, the time spent dwelling on my perceived failure will lessen.
The reason I feel I’ve failed? When I was 24, I had saved enough for a deposit on a house. It was a small two bedroom fibro shack. Other than the enormous Huntsman spiders, I loved it. I stayed there for seven years.
I then sold my little shack and put the proceeds towards a small two bedroom unit on a battle-axe block. It was on its own title and being built only about 15 years prior, it was shiny and new. And mine.
Mr T and I met, got married and I fell pregnant with the wonderful Ruby. We decided the unit was too small, so we sold up and used the proceeds to buy a small three bedroom house on a nice block of land.
Ella came and joined us and then I fell pregnant with Max. We could have stayed and squished ourselves in there quite nicely, however the neighbourhood was changing, so we decided to sell and build “The House”.
Fast forward to now. We are renting, we do not own a house.
What’s my problem? Exactly my point! I shouldn’t have a problem. I have a wonderful family, we’re healthy, we have somewhere to live, we have food, we have no debt and we are enjoying our new life.
People have arrived at the same point we are now with a lot less. And they have arrived here in less desirable ways; divorce, death, illness. We got here the easy way. We chose this way.
On the surface, I understand all of this. The problem is with the way my mind works. Now I am not blaming anyone for how I think, but you pick up things from your family growing up. This is totally my perception. I am one of four, and I’m the only one with this type of crazy. This is an issue I’ve created. The message I got was that I wasn’t really complete unless I worked my arse off, saved my money and bought a house. Even if that meant you had to work nights, overtime shifts and let your kids become latch key kids. There is time for fun, but only when all the work is done. I now know this is not a sustainable way to live. I would have preferred a crappy old house and time with my parents to a nice house.
So to walk away from what I created with all the hard work I’ve put in, is hard. It appears a lot of my confidence and self-esteem was wrapped up in this ideal. I have to constantly adjust my thinking.
I have dreams about it. Very obscure but the feeling is there. I spent this morning dwelling on the fact that in my early twenties I worked and saved whilst my friends travelled the world and played. Guess what, it didn’t put me ahead of them in anyway. We’re still equal. This train of thought was bought on from a dream. Obviously I still need to work through this.
The big thing that I now know, is that money and all the stuff that goes with it, isn’t what it’s about. Again, it’s a lesson learned but one that my subconscious still hasn’t absorbed.
It does get easier every day though.