A resounding, echoing, unsubstantiated “no” from my parents. I am not welcome to build my Tiny’s interior on my parents’ 3-acre plot. Far from welcome, I’m not allowed to bring up the topic to them anymore. At all. Ever.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been optimistic. I was. I was full of hope and fire. I’m still in a state of semi-shock, back home in the arctic tundra that is Pittsburgh in February. Back to my routine. Back to life. How could they say no to all of my hard work and dreams? And yet the “no” stands firmly in front of me. Along with one more looming question…
I feel like a 7-year-old who just found out Santa isn’t real and Bugs Bunny isn’t coming to play basketball with me circa Space Jam. My generation grew up hearing that we could do anything we wanted so long as we worked hard and earned it. Now here I stand: working 65+ hours a week, saving money, raising my credit each month, paying off my student loans $300 at a time, and working toward a goal… just to hear that fateful “no”. What I hear reflected in their answer isn’t a push toward a goal but rather so much doubt. I’ve never been the person who takes a “no” and sees a challenge. Instead I wonder: What if I fail? What if I lose all my money? What if I can’t do this? And most frighteningly, what if they’re right?
Most of my life (and for as long as I can remember) I’ve struggled with depression. It’s permeated my life with sadness, restlessness, fear, and despondency. In the rare times when the fog lifts I try to get everything done that I ignored while I was nearly bedridden. I clean, I write, I chat animatedly with friends, I visit people, I shop; I live. This comes off as irrational and impulsive at best, bipolar or manic at worst. This is the me that my parents see. This is the me that is being doubted. Is this me?
The problem is, recently I’ve come out of the murkiness that’s muddled my brain for a few months. For the first time in 15 years I feel functional and rational and level-headed. And this is the time I’m being doubted on the biggest decision of my life.
So I made a decision, all on my own and without my parents’ support.
I went for it.
I put my deposit down today for my trailer and I started the process of ordering my Tiny House. There are still a lot of unknowns, including first and foremost where I’ll be working on it, but it feels good to have this first step out of the way. Terrifying, but good.