Today, we’re talking about roommates.
ME: I lived with three other girls for a short time period in my early twenties.
There was a black-haired woman, a blonde, a red head and me, the brunette.
The black-haired woman was the no-nonsense, smart one in our group. She also played referree a lot because when you have that many women under one roof, the amount of estrogen is bound to explode from time to time.
The red-haired woman was the good little Christian girl. And by that I mean, she was our voice of reason whenever the rest of us got out of hand.
Which was often.
The blond-haired woman was the party slut in our group. She had no problem sleeping with anything that possessed an ounce of testosterone. She lived to shock us and shock us, she did.
Then, there was me. I was often the hot head in the bunch. I went along with a lot of what the other girls wanted to do, but I was often the one who quit the activity first.
Together, we were quite intimidating. We all had different, and very strong personalities and we got into a lot of fights – girly fights, not knock down and drag ’em by the hair fights.
The red-haired woman got on my nerves a lot. Her holier than thou attitude was really annoying. But I butt heads mostly with the blond-haired woman. Her and I … never saw eye-to-eye on anything. Ever. And I suspect, now, that she was jealous of me.
We only lived together for one year before we had had enough. The black-haired woman and me moved out on our own – the blond-haired woman moved out and got pregnant (big shocker) and the red-haired woman moved back home with her parents.
In a lot of ways, the girls in the Sex in the City show reminds me of me and my three roommates. We had a lot of drama in our lives but unfortunately, we didn’t get along as well as the women in that show.
That was one experience I vowed never to repeat. It also reinforced why I don’t have a lot of women friends to this day — women totally get on my nerves.
ME AND KEVIN: Kevin and I lived together for two years before we got married.
I’ll wait for the collective gasps of horror to subside.
I’m not sure how his family felt about the arrangement, but my family was not happy. My parents thoroughly disapproved of the arrangement.
And quite frankly, I never gave it much thought. Kevin and I worked together at a bank and he was six months out of his divorce from his first wife and sort of needing a place to stay. He had been renting an apartment at the time, but he had just moved in and the complex was rough — he was often woken up by yelling and fighting neighbors.
He was on the verge of moving back home with his folks when we met. My own roommate (the black-haired woman had gotten married and moved out and my new roommate was a liar and a thief and I thoroughly disliked her), was getting ready to go into the military and had one foot on the threshold when Kevin moved in.
It was a strange arrangement at first. B continued to live there until her arrangements had been finalized and it was cramped and … awkward. But we settled into a comfortable routine after she left.
I think, looking back, living together was the best thing for us. It was a trial “marriage” if you will, though neither of discussed getting married for quite some time. Living with Kevin convinced me that I could put up with him, even at his worst. (Because you don’t truly know someone until you live with them, in my opinion).
We were compatible on so many levels. I could see myself living with him for the rest of my life.
After about 18 months of living together, the practical side of my personality took over and I gave the man an ultimatum – either we got married soon or we would go our separate ways.
That sounds cold, right? But here’s the thing – I’m a realist. And I know that if men can take the easy road, they will. Why would he want to get married when he had everything but the ring?
I wanted more. And I didn’t want to waste any more time on the man if he didn’t feel the same way.
Lucky for me, he felt the same way and proposed.
I’ve thought long and hard about whether or not I would encourage my boys to live with their girlfriends before marrying them. Kevin looks horrified when I suggest it, but when I point out how well it worked out for us, he has second thoughts.
I still haven’t decided if I should encourage them to live with their girlfriends when the time is right, but if it helps them pick a better mate in the long run, wouldn’t it be worth it?
THE BOYS: We talk about the future a lot. Well, I talk to the boys about their future a lot. I want them to know, in no uncertain terms, that they are more than welcome to continue to live in our house after they graduate provided they either
A. have a job and are actively saving for their own apartment
B. they have a job, and/or are going to school and saving for their own apartment.
I will not have 30 year old sons living at home playing video games all day.
Newp. It ain’t gonna happen. Again, I’m a realist.
This makes it sound like I’m being harsh, and I suppose I am, to a certain extent. Kevin and I are more than happy to help our sons start an independent life but we’re not going to support them, at least not financially.
And the boys know this.
Sometimes, when I “casually” remind them about our open invitation to live with us (with stipulations, of course), the boys will mention something about rooming together in their own apartment after they move out.
This really warms my heart. I can’t tell you how important it is to me to know they LIKE each other enough to even consider this as an option.
I hope it happens. I honestly do. Not only will it be good for them, but it’ll help me handle the fact that they are out in the cold, hard world, that they will be together and that they will look after each other.
I’m so blessed to have children who get along with each other, who consider each other best friends and who aren’t repulsed by the idea of sharing an apartment together when they become full-fledged, responsible adults.
I don’t know, it makes me feel like I’m doing something right, you know?