All About Me · Thoughts.

A Trip to IKEA

Yesterday myself and my boyfriend took a trip to IKEA in Lakeside (hence the title of today’s blog post) and I had a sudden realisation about the direction my life is going in. Even just ten years ago, going to IKEA with my parents would be an exciting day trip, whereby I would follow my Mum and Dad round, hear them discuss the things they want to go in whichever room they were decorating, and I could only but dream about the things that I could one day buy for my own home. At the time, it was a dream that seemed ridiculously far away from becoming a reality. A decade later, and I find myself, almost 25-years-old, and going round the Swedish home ware and furniture shop, thinking about the things I’m going to buy to put in my own home, which I’m going to buy with my own money. 

I still don’t feel grown up enough to have a job, be paying taxes and putting money into a pension, let alone looking into house viewings and working out mortgage repayments. I’ve been doing my research and even putting together my own dream wish list of furniture and decorative accessories that I would love to have in my future house, but it had never really crossed my mind that it was actually going to happen. That whole last sentence probably makes absolutely no sense at all, but when you get caught up in the moment of getting excited about the prospect of moving in with the person you love, the logistics around actually moving out, moving away from your family, having the responsibility of paying bills, mortgage repayments and buying food don’t really cross your mind.

The knowledge that this time next year I will hopefully be living in my own home, surrounded by things that I’ve bought with my own money, and having the responsibility of being a homeowner for the first time in my life, is an exciting but utterly terrifying thought. On the one hand, I can’t wait, and I’ve never felt more ready to finally spread my wings and get onto the first rudder of the property ladder, but at the same time, the part of me that doesn’t like change and wants to cling on to being a ‘child’ for that bit longer is willing for me to stay living in the bedroom I’ve occupied for my whole life so far for as long as possible.

Obviously, the ‘grown up’ in me will win this argument, and I can’t wait for the day I move out of my family home to come, but it still is a really scary new chapter of my life. I know that everyone needs to go through this, and at some stage in everyone’s life we all have to take that leap, but the thought of taking this leap, as exciting as it is, is also a really big scary jump. I would liken it to the prospect of jumping off a sky scraper onto another building close by; you don’t know what to expect, it takes a lot of build up to have the courage to take that leap, but once you’ve done it you feel amazing. I know that it will all work out just fine, but at the same time I know it’s going to be a big adjustment period, and one that will take a good few months to get used to. But just as it was scary to leave my comfort zone of living at home and moving away to Canterbury for university, it will end up being an amazing experience and the start of a whole new chapter in my life.


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