Not much more to ask for
Last weekend, after a months-long stretch of moving around, and being up in the air, we moved into our new sublet. And it is amazing. We have a fully furnished “open concept” living space (can you tell I watch a lot of home renovation television?) with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, cable and internet included, washer/dryer in unit, and a terrace facing the bay. As in the bay is literally my back yard.
Before we found this place, we had another place lined up. It only had one bathroom, and did not have a dishwasher. I told my husband I wanted to keep looking. He did not like this idea. I don’t blame him. We were tired. He had been sick. We had been travelling non-stop. We had been working full time. He wanted to be done. I wanted to be done too. But I was also filled with dread every time I thought about the idea of working 40 hours, plus all the meal prep I would have to do to bring my food to work every day, and not having a dishwasher. Not to mention having two people who need to get to work at the same time having to deal with one bathroom in the morning.
It was not fun to tell him I wanted something else. It was a difficult conversation. But having my food under control makes it possible for me to have difficult conversations. If I had not, I would have been unhappy and resentful. And I cannot afford to be resentful. Resentment is just 2 steps away from eating a cake. Not to mention, it’s bad for a relationship.
I ate my unspoken truths for most of my life. I wanted to be liked. I wanted to coast under the radar. I wanted to not make waves. Until I was angry and felt put upon. And then I would explode. This is also not good for a relationship.
So in the end, I had the conversation I didn’t want to have. I got a place better than I could have expected. And my husband and I are both happy. All because I said something it would have more comfortable in the moment not to say. I don’t know what more there is to ask for than that.