People say you carry your home in your heart. Maybe that is true. Actually I believe it is, but a home is also a place where you feel safe. A place where you go every night after work. I lived in different kinds of apartements, different cities and different countries even.
Some places were a home, others were just a place I slept in. They were just a room, without the cozy and safe feeling a home has. But every place had its journey, an experience that I will remember for decades. Some places even changed me.
The first place I ever lived in was my room at my parents’ house. It was a big room, with one window. My parents rebuild our entire house before they had me and my brother. The childrens’ room were in the attic, which made it even more cozy. My room went through a lot of changes. From colorful clowns at the walls to a beige grown up color with white furniture.
For Better and for Worse
Like the place’s appearance grew up, I grew up to. With rough times and good times. I thought this room would always be my home, my safe place.
But after I moved out it looked empty and sad. Even though my mom painted one wall in dark red and made it more cozy, it wasn’t my place anymore. It was still home, but different.
I moved to a different city, for university. I shared a flat with with another girl I did not know. We went along well…for the first two weeks or so. But then it became weird. She and I had different thoughts about cleaning the flat, when it would be the right time to invite friends over and so on and so on.
It became worse,…so worse I moved out after a total of six month. I looked at one room apartments. I just couldn’t stand the thought of sharing a flat again. Sharing a flat wasn’t for me at this point in my life. “Not another experiment”, I thought. I found a small apartment with a balcony, a small kitchen place and a small bathroom. Everything was small…but I am not that tall either, so it worked.
The Horror Apartement
I decorated it lovely, cute, a true girly-apartment. After half a year, horror went through my home. Literally. Small insects were crawling around the flat. On the floor, the walls, even the carpet in front of my bed. All this happened, because the landlord forgot to mention, that the basement is permanently under water. The walls were wet, literally wet. This insect loved wet and humid rooms, so they loved my apartment. After hours of fighting with my landlord, cleaning the apartment and spraying poison on the ground and sleeping at my parents house for over a week, they finally were gone. No more insects, … like I said: I don’t like sharing my flat.
After the insects, mold followed. Behind my shelf, behind my closet, in the bathroom. Two years I lived in this shitty apartment, that cost me a lot of tears, nerves and even my health. I had a cold for over a year.
I decided to move out, pay a little bit more and take more time searching for a place. A friend of mine came with me and we found the apartment I live in today. It is the exact opposite of the horror apartment before. Here I have the problem that it is too dry. But that is easier to take care of.
Now I have two rooms, a separate kitchen, a cute living room. Even thought my wallpaper is damaged in some places, even though my shower decides to go from hot to cold in nanoseconds, … I feel at home.
Why is that? I mean it is just a place and apparently it does not need to be perfect. It just needs to feel right. …
It takes a long time to find a place that you feel at home after you are moving out. For me it took almost three years.