A Home of My Own
Sunday, October 1, 2023. Reflecting on two years of living alone.
Today, I’m celebrating two years of living alone. In the summer of 2021, I was exhausted after navigating Toronto’s cutthroat rental market. Months went by as I attended showing after showing with my mom and my realtor (who was really just my best friend’s dad doing me a huge favour). I viewed so many apartments that disappointed me in some way or another. One place, new, never lived-in, and minutes away from my office, was barely bigger than a dorm room. Another place was big, cheap (for Toronto), and in a great location, but looked directly out onto a construction site. When another apartment with a clear view became available on the other side of that building in September, I felt something in my body telling me to go for it. I signed the lease with a move-in date of October 1, 2021, forked over the first and last month’s rent, and started packing my things without even seeing the place first. It ended up being the best decision I’ve ever made.
One of my favourite games growing up was MyScene Room Makeover. I loved customizing the furniture, carpets, lighting, and wall art, recklessly abandoning any sense of practicality and taking it very seriously. I spent a lot of time playing the game and imagining what kind of person I would be if I had a bedroom with a funky purple furniture set and a window bench. Even as a preteen clicking through the game’s limited options, I knew deep inside that what I wanted wasn’t exactly a cool bedroom setup, but control over my own space.
I loved books, movies, and TV shows in which women characters lived alone. Around the same age that I was playing MyScene Room Makeover, I watched the 2009 movie Wake Up Sid starring Konkona Sen Sharma and Ranbir Kapoor. Sen Sharma’s character Aisha, a kind, motivated, and creative woman in her 20s, moves into her first solo apartment while pursuing her dream of becoming a writer. I was enamored by Aisha’s life — it was unpredictable but driven entirely by her own relentless ambition, and her ability to be independent. She sees the potential in a seemingly terrible apartment and transforms it into the perfect place for her.
CBC’s Being Erica was a dramedy-fantasy show that I watched entirely too young, but it left an indelible impact and remains one of my favourites to this day. The titular character, Erica Strange, is in her early thirties and lives in a one-bedroom apartment in Toronto. It’s suspiciously big, but the show came out in 2009, which might have been the last time you could get a decently spacious apartment in this city for less than $2000. The apartment becomes a character of its own and acts as the site of Erica’s many self-discoveries as she explores her friendships, family life, romances, and career through magical time-travel therapy.
As I got older, I started collecting things I wanted to put in my future home. Limited edition glassware from IKEA; knick-knacks from antique fairs; gold photo frames from thrift stores for a gallery wall. They collected dust in my closet for years, but I didn’t get rid of them, knowing that one day I would find the perfect spot for them in a place of my own.
When I moved out of my parents’ house exactly two years ago, my family didn’t want me to leave, but they still helped me move. My parents and I sat cross-legged on the hardwood floor all day, assembled furniture together, and ate lunch and dinner at the South Indian restaurant across the street. It didn’t feel real when they left at the end of the night — like I was at sleepaway camp and they would be back for me in a few days. It took weeks for that feeling to go away, and months for the apartment to feel like it was mine. When I finally put some art up in my living room, fulfilling my dream of creating a gallery wall, it started to sink in. This is my apartment. This is my home.
As I look around my apartment, all 500 square feet of my home, I feel nothing but gratitude as I reflect on my life here over the last two years. In the kitchen, I see myself stirring something on the stove, glass of wine in my hand, focaccia baking in the oven. On the foldout couch, I see my brother sleeping when he comes to visit. Sitting around my dining table are my friends, laughing and gossiping over plates of pasta. In the bathroom, I see myself playing Wordle on the toilet. On the balcony, I see my ex and I sitting on my dusty patio furniture, drinking wine and snapping Polaroids of each other. In the bedroom, I see myself slowly waking up, puffy-eyed after a difficult night, feeling relieved that I can stay in bed all day if I need to. Every corner comes alive with memories, and good or bad, I appreciate them all and can’t wait to make more.
This summer I went to the AGO and came across the painting The Bachelor by William Kurelek. I stared at the painting for a few minutes, struck by the calm feeling it evoked in me. The Bachelor depicts a man sitting by his window in the morning, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. Some people might think he looks lonely, but to me, he seems content. His place is tiny, but it’s good enough for him. It’s a mess, but it’s his mess. Whatever is going on in his life, this little pocket of peace is serving its purpose of giving him the space he needs to get ready for the day.
I don’t plan on living alone forever. I look forward to sharing my space with a future partner or finding a new place of our own. But for now, even though this shouldn’t be the case, it’s an incredible privilege to be able to (barely) afford an apartment of my own, in Toronto of all places. Sometimes it’s scary to be totally in charge of my own life. Sometimes it’s just annoying — I wish I didn’t have to cook for myself all the time, take out the garbage, or deal with spiders. But most of the time, living alone is incredibly exciting.
Jumping head-first into living alone gave me the safety, comfort, and independence I needed to become a better version of myself. It’s been an eventful and often difficult two years, but I’m smarter and more resilient. I have space to grow. I have a community that loves me and looks out for me. I have a place to land where I can truly rest before I get up and keep going.
loved this - gives me motivation and hope to be able to afford my own place one day <3
I love how this made me think of my own memories of each corner in my space. I smiled the entire read! :)