Babe Cave Loading: Moving Out (Again) & Living Alone

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Exactly one year ago, I thought I’d done it. I’d found the dream house, packed up my world (for what felt like the hundredth time), and moved in with my boyfriend. Four bedrooms, three floors, a little slice of the grown-up life I’d been imagining for years. Honestly? It was a total Pinterest board come to life type home.

But here’s the thing, the dream house doesn’t always equal dream life. Three months in, I knew deep down it wasn’t working. By six months, I was desperate to pack my bags and run, but… tenancy agreements don’t care about your gut feelings, do they? So I had to put my big girl pants on, and stick it out.

It was such a weird time, the relationship was crumbling before my eyes, but money wise I was thriving. For the first time in years, I was earning more than I ever had, splitting the bills with someone else after being on my own, I had started to finally live the life I’d only ever dreamed of. Financial freedom… but with a side plate of chaos.

So, yep…fast forward me 12 months and here I am, house move number four in as many years.

I’ve now officially moved out, and I’m on my own again (well, with my son and the dog, but you know what I mean).

And honestly, all I’ve been doing is DIY-ing the f**k out of my life this past week. Building beds, fixing cupboards, unboxing deliveries, it’s been my cardio, oh’ and buying ALL the pink things because why not?

This little apt might be small, but it’s mine. My babe cave. My reset button. My chapter 45 starting point. And I feel frightened financially but also safe and settled for the first time in what feels like ages.

So yeah, once again…here’s to independence, pink lamps, and leopard print everything. I’ll never say I love moving, but I do love shopping for my new place.


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