I grew up in trailer parks and houses that were either A.) unfinished B.) too small C.) falling apart or D.) all of the above. Now that I'm older, in college, working to make my own money and paying for my own apartment, I'm feeling on top of the world. This apartment is bigger than any house I've ever lived in, even more so than the one my family now comfortably fits in and loves more than anywhere else we've ever lived. As I cross these milestones and make all the progress I am, there are challenges I'm overcoming that, to people who have never had to struggle, seem so easy. These are the things that mean the most to me.
Every article of clothing I have for my office job, I bought myself and worked for. The fact that I even have an office job is a feat in itself to myself, as well as my parents who have broken their backs for 25 years in labor jobs. The night I got my job and we went to Walmart/Target/Ross to get those clothes, my friends didn't share my excitement. They just saw them as "temporary" clothes until I could go "real" shopping. I still have a pair of jeans from the eighth grade because plus size jeans are expensive and Mama had to worry about making sure there was gas for work and my sister had shoes she could wear when it rains.
I have a change jar in my room and when it's filled up, I'll have enough money to put the down payment on a car. Not a new car, but a beautiful used 2010 Ford Focus, which is newer than any car my parents have ever owned. My change jar means everything to me. So, when my roommate asked if she could take a couple of dollars to get snacks and I snapped back with a hard "no?" I wasn't trying to be rude. I was protecting what I work so hard for. That's one thing I wish I could help people understand: I don't mean it in a rude way. I don't mean to be hateful, but I work my ASS OFF for every cent I have and everything I have.
The. Fact. That. I. Have. An. Apartment. To. Call. My. Own. Is. Insane. It's even an apartment where I don't have to worry about making rent, but here's the poor kid catch. It's livable. It's more than livable. It's perfect. I have my OWN ROOM, AND MY OWN BATHROOM. At Mom's, there are 5+ people sharing one bathroom. One. I've never even thought about having my own bathroom. And you can bet I've got a whole Pinterest board of shower curtains and bathroom decor. I get choices, I don't have to take the first thing that I can afford. I put so much time and effort into this one and I couldn't be happier to get to start my new life in my own home.
So I know it doesn't seem like much to others, it just seems like something I'm "supposed" to do. To me, this is everything I am out here thriving. When I sat on my dorm bed for the first time last year, I cried. When I got that first big job, I cried. When I found out I had friends who loved and understood me enough to live with me, I cried. When I realized I was doing it, that Momma knew I made it and Daddy was proud of me, I cried. We can't all be born with the blessing of security. I didn't even realize it was a thing until about a year ago. So, here I am. Thriving.
