A Room of One’s Own

Weekends as a young adult, as I have mentioned before, begin to change. Instead of being filled with rave parties or dance clubs, they begin filling up with barbecues, house cleaning and thrift shopping. I’m not saying this has to happen, just that it seems it is happening. 

So, this weekend I visited some thrift stores and came upon a treasure; two Virginia Woolf novels. I have read them before but decided to buy them anyways and reread. A “Room of One’s Own” is my favorite essay of Woolf’s and it got me thinking about how important it is for young adults, especially young female adults, to “have a fixed income and a room of one’s own in order to create.” What I take from this phrase is that women must have independence, a stability outside another person. And I love the idea, but I have found myself at a certain kind of crossroads.

Allen and I have begun the ruthless shopping of houses and it has proven to not be as fun as my 17 year-old self had thought. Neither one of us have owned property before and are planning on going into this house together. That is, both incomes taken into consideration, both names on the mortgage and both splitting ownership. Makes sense, right? I mean we are planning on both living in the house. Both of our incomes together beat out our individual incomes. So why do I have these weird feelings of wanting to buy my own house by myself? If Virginia Woolf were still alive she would understand, but I am afraid I am left to figure this out on my own. Is it because I feel the need to prove something; that I am strong and independent and can do this on my own? Maybe that is it. But why is it that I have to buy my own house to prove this? Is it because I am a woman? I have absolutely no intention of living by myself. Doc and I have lived together since forever and really enjoy it. We like the idea of building something together and being partners. Equal partners. But I sometimes have this drifting thought of myself coming home to my own space with no one around and no one to judge me in my Scrunci. But I can’t imagine coming home to no one everyday. Coming home to Allen is wonderful. 

So why is it that I assume that having a partner in everything means you are not independent? Is it possible to have a partner and a room of one’s own?

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