By now it’s a well-known fact that just under six months ago I picked up and moved over halfway across the country from California to Tennessee. A lesser-known fact, however, is that prior to this move, I had never lived alone.
As a millennial who had only ever rented in one of the most expensive states in the US, that’s probably not an entirely shocking tidbit of information. It’s straight-up pricey to live in California, let alone live there, well . . . alone.
Cost aside — I’m also someone who thrives off of human connection, so having a roommate or a gaggle of roommates is something that (until recently) I felt was non-negotiable. Whether it was my OG roommates mom and dad, my college dormmates, or my post-grad roomie, for the past 25 years there was someone there to welcome me home from class or work, someone to make dinner with, and someone to binge Netflix series after Netflix series with.
And while I genuinely loved that, it really took me no time at all to appreciate this solo living situation.