Deleting Zillow

Yes, it's that dramatic.

TL;DR: We’re moving and I have a lot of feelings about it.

I’m breaking the fourth wall for a second -- normally, I don’t like writing and publishing things in real time. I like to be able to sit with it, process, and reflect before putting anything on (electronic) paper. Blame it on the ramifications of a *very* honest Xanga when I was 12. However, I also want to be more active on Substack, and trying to differentiate between what to write here vs. what to save for my current book project is getting tedious. So here we go!

I moved into this rental in 2018. In this house,

I fell apart;

I got divorced;

I fought with one of my best friends;

I lost friends;

I lost jobs;

I broke down;

I cried a lot;

I kicked out a craigslist roommate who harbored a tarantula and stole my clothes out of the laundry.

And

I adopted my dog;

I fell in love;

I found myself;

I created a business;

I enrolled in two different master’s programs;

I laughed a lot;

I regained my strength;

I drank a lot of coffee, and a lot of wine;

I watched sunrises and sunsets;

I healed and grew.

It’s no secret that I never really wanted to live here. I didn’t feel financially ready; and there was something about it that never felt right. Yes, over time it became my house, but never home.

For six years, I dreamed of the next step. Sometimes I got lost in dreaming of the future, so much so that I missed out on being fully present for some really wonderful moments. But for unknown reasons, when I dropped into a visualization meditation for 2024, I clearly saw myself around Christmastime sitting by a fire, reading a book in my home.

I knew this year it would happen. The how of it was never clear, but I knew in my heart that this vision would come true because for the first time, it was based in faith and trust, not desperation.

After so much time spent pushing and forcing myself to do the work to regain trust in myself, to learn to love myself and trust the love of a healthy relationship, to dive deeper and deeper into understanding how my mind and body adapted to protect me, I let go. And I let go again, and again, and again.

When the spiritual girlies and gurus tell you that you need to surrender, then surrender more, bruh, I don’t think anyone can really fathom what that feels like. Especially for a millennial firstborn daughter with anxiety and a savior complex.

So when this vision came through without the normal twist in my gut telling me I had to make this happen, I knew. This was the moment. This was the surrender and trust that had eluded me for so long.

About two months later, our family suffered the loss of a close friend. Mike’s heart was soft; his humor dry and quick; his love for his chosen family worn on t-shirts, hats, and mugs with pride. He was reserved, but empathetic. Kind and humble. A true friend.

Mike came to my book signing at Barnes & Noble and bought copies for his friends in AA. He said he thought the stories from the women in Born to Rise could help some of the women in his groups.

He left everything to his best friend, who then presented us with the opportunity to move into a beautiful home and circumvent the [insert expletive of your choice here] housing market.

My 6+ year habit of Saturday morning doom scrolling on housing apps came to a close.

I deleted Zillow.