Moving Back Home
If you had told 18 year old me in 2016 that I would be living with my parents when I graduated from college, I probably would have said something like “I rebuke it in the name of Jesus” lol. I still remember standing on my stairs screaming about how I couldn’t wait to go to college. I think I was upset about not being able to go to an after party for prom or something. I really yelled, at my Nigerian parents....chai, I didn’t love my life. My parents were strict but looking back on it they weren’t all that bad. They did the best they could with what they knew. I’ve just wanted freedom and independence for as long as I can remember. But then, I went to college and found out that freedom is more of a state of mind than a location. Through faith, therapy, and a whole lot of mistakes, I was able to get my mind free from the insecurity and need for control that had always boxed me in.
However, I still didn’t want to go live back with my parents. I just didn’t. I was used to being on my own coming and going as I pleased without having to check in with anybody. I was used to being responsible for myself. I never hated chores. I just hated that someone was telling me to do them. I wanted the feeling of just having my own space. I loved my parents but dang sometimes I just wanted to play Frank Ocean on the party speakers at 2 am without anyone tryna check me you know? So, last summer when God put it on my heart to move back to Dallas for work I was kind of irritated. I’d been through too much to try and play myself by disobeying, but I wasn’t happy about it at all. Dallas is...fine. But something in me longed for adventure and Dallas was not built for people who love to explore.
I couldn’t say I was thrilled to move back to Dallas but I knew I heard from God so I had peace about it. I was going back to Dallas but to my surprise, my parents seemed cool with me getting my own place. I considered it but, in a couple months I’d be going into a job in consulting that was 80% travel and I really wasn’t trying to pay 100% rent to live somewhere 20% of the time. Besides, I didn’t want to put down roots in Dallas by getting my own place. I was ready to move across the country as soon as the spirit gave the go-ahead. Living with my parents wouldn’t be so bad if I was only there on the weekends. I could still do my young, professional, grown woman flex with that setup. Then Corona hit.
I was immensely grateful to God that I’d still have my job but my plans of jet-setting around the country came to a jolting halt. It looked like I’d start work from home and based on the shambly state of our country, I might not get back to traveling until 2021. So, that 20% percent of time at home turned into 100% before I could say “ won’t he do it” and I was stuck in the house for the foreseeable future. It was at that moment that I decided to get serious about my mindset of freedom. I could allow the dread of speeding 24/7 in my childhood room to consume me or I could boss up and create the space I needed to thrive. Although I was constrained by old furniture and an odd layout, I put my DIY crown on and got to work. I gathered up old furniture from around the house to refurbish, made a couple Ikea stops, and ordered cute things off of Amazon until I was in a space that truly felt like my own.
I believe that when you change your environment, you change your perspective. I didn’t have the luxury of up and moving across the city, state or country but I was able to make a space that felt like home simply by redecorating my room. I think I was so adverse to moving back home because I’d changed so dramatically in college. I was so much more rooted and self aware than that girl who couldn’t wait to escape and be free. In a way, moving back home felt like going backwards.
I’m not going to lie, I redecorated my room because I figured if I was going to be spending so much time there, it better be cute, but along the way I realize that the process was really symbolic for me. It represented the fact that even though I’d been through a lot when I was away at college, the very core of who I was hadn’t changed. I was just able to see her more clearly now. She was refined, by God, friendships, and the experiences of my highest highs and my lowest lows. In the same way, my room was good, I just needed to shake her up a bit to uncover the potential for beauty that had been there all along.
I also think that at a time where the world was on fire and the future was becoming more uncertain every day, it felt so good to have control of something. It helped me realize that my happiness really doesn’t come from the presence or absence of things that are outside of my control. It comes from surrendering everything to God and just making the best of what’s in front of me. Sometimes we underestimate how much our environment, whether its a room, an office, or even a car impacts everything from our mood to our productivity. Redesigning my room helped me realize that the seemingly small changes really do matter. Caring deeply enough about something to put the time and effort into making it beautiful is such a rewarding experience and an underrated blessing. So in whatever way you can, create a space that represents you, inspires you, or is just aesthetically pleasing to you. It can be a powerful tool tp shift perspectives and insert joy into your daily life even when you’re not where you thought you’d be.