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A Place To Call Home

by BreeAnn 5 days ago in healing

Finally reaching that light at the end of the tunnel.

A Place To Call Home
Photo By Author

Like most, 2020 was an incredibly difficult year for me—but not just because of the pandemic. My 2020 started off filled with uncertainty and fear long before the world began to shut down and people started to pass away from a deadly virus. It started where 2019 left off: scraping by after losing nearly everything.

I moved into a nightmare of an apartment—the kind filled with bugs and mice, noisy neighbors, and gunshots that rang out into the night. Suffice it to say that my suburban upbringing did not prepare me for the world that I entered, but I knew that it was just for a little while. It was a temporary solution while I sorted everything else out.

In December of 2020, my lease was up and I was ready to move on. This is where I found my little corner.

This Spot

The corner that I have chosen isn't completely in this photo. Instead, it is where I sat when I took it, so you can experience my corner just like I do. In this picture, you can see my view from my trusted little corner—though the view has changed a little by now.

But, this corner is my spot.

It isn't because of the cozy little couch that I was sitting on when I took the picture. It isn't because my dog's bed now lies next to it and I get to watch her little head pop up as she peeks around the corner of the couch. No, it is because it is the spot where I can see everything that I have worked for.

From this one vantage point, I can see what I have been awarded after working nonstop during a period of personal and global turmoil. The world fell apart—and my world with it—and I still got up and did what it took to make this happen. It is where I reflect upon how grateful I am for the new chance at life that I have been given and where I can be proud of my hard work on days when my orders pile up to the ceiling and back.

It is mine.

Finally Safe

After a year spent in a building that was broken into on a weekly basis, I cannot quite explain the relief that came with finally being somewhere secure.

In my less than artful photo, you can see my front door. You can see the locks—strong and sturdy locks that are designed to protect—but the security goes beyond that.

Beyond the door, there are winding halls that anyone could get lost in, a labrynth that would confuse even the most committed foe should they choose to enter the premises—and every building door is securely locked, accessible only by those with a magical digital key, like me

Spending so much time being afraid of what was just beyond the door, I can't help but marvel at the quiet and peace that this level of security brings. My fears have dripped away, leaving behind a tremendous sense of comfort instead.

A Room of My Own

Virginia Woolf is famously known for saying that in order to write fiction, a woman must have two things: "a room of her own and enough money to support herself."

The door on the right will show you that very room—and I still can't look at that closed door without smiling. After a year and a half of freelancing full-time in an uncertain economy, I finally have my own office. There is an entire room with a desk and every manner of office supplies—a place where I can read, write, and research to my heart's content.

My business is growing and it has so much space to grow now, ample room for my novels, blogs, and podcast planning too. But more importantly, it is mine.

A Kitchen Filled With Heart

Even though my new kitchen is beautiful with its stainless steel appliances and abundance of counterspace, this is not why I love it—or why I love to stare at it.

Like most, I consider the kitchen to be a treasured place. I'm not a chef by any means, but in this kitchen, I feel like I could be. It is the place where cocktails are mixed and served, where my boyfriend and I come together to celebrate Taco Tuesday (at least three nights a week), and where eggs are sometimes scrambled for a furry little friend.

It provides me with the space that I need to nourish my body with delicious healthy food, or to even just make some vegan nuggets in the oven when I'm feeling lazy.

I could not see it before in the cramped little apartment that barely left me any space to cook and frequently ran out of water because there was always some new emergency in the building that shut it down.

But, I see it now.

It is where the heart is and I am so grateful to see it from my little corner.

My Favorite Thing

Since the move, this view has changed. Another couch graces the left side of the spot—and a tv hangs high upon the wall on the right. But, that is the beauty of it and that is why this is my favorite spot.

Not only does this corner provide me with all of the beautiful things that I have worked for. It shows me the beautiful things that are coming to me too.

This spot isn't just a spot. It is the spot in my apartment. It is the area where someday friends will sit and laugh—where we will drink and have fun. It is the spot that my family marveled over and told me how happy they were for me—not just because it is nice, but because they know that I was in a bad place too and they are relieved that I am safe.

In my corner, I see a space where memories will be made and stories will be told—a space where I will learn and grow in the years ahead.

This space is everything that I ever could have wanted and I couldn't be happier or more grateful for it. It shows that even when faced with the darkest days, the best are still to become, and I will always love it for that.

So, welcome to my corner.

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Heya! My name is BreeAnn. I’m a content creator, ghostwriter, freelance writer, and upcoming true crime podcast host.

See all posts by BreeAnn