|by hryckowian via Flickr|
I decided to live alone when I moved to California because I was entirely sick of living with other people. I've had great experiences with roommates (my college roommate and then a college friend who moved to Richmond) and I've had not so great experiences (an uptight short term roommate and, most recently, my dad's girlfriend). I didn't feel like taking any chances with complete strangers, especially when my two cats would be involved, so living alone was the most appealing option for me.
I lived alone a few years ago after I broke up with my ex-fiance and moved out of the apartment that we shared. I remember feeling a lot of things then that I've been feeling now in terms of adjusting to living solo. Sure, it can be lonely and quiet and boring at times, but it can also be exhilarating. Not having to deal with other people's idiosyncrasies on a daily basis is a wonderful, wonderful thing.
One thing I've noticed that is very different now from when I lived alone the first time is that I feel much more interested in decorating my apartment and making it feel like home. I've been looking at curtains and bedskirts and actually caring about things matching and establishing color schemes. I never even hung pictures in my last one bedroom. I think being in a brand new city where I know practically no one has me looking more inward and placing more importance in creating a safe haven for myself. It's rare that I've been able to think of my home as a truly relaxing place, so being able to do so now has me operating in full nesting mode.
Have any children of hoarders who are reading ever live alone? Did you enjoy it?