I moved abroad and am moving in with my boyfriend of 4 weeks


So, you know how you can be living your life completely content with the way you do things... then meet someone who makes you throw caution to the wind and just go for it? That's what happened to my friend (who asked to remain anonymous). After ditching life in the US for a New Zealand adventure, she decided to throw additional fucks in the air and move in with her boyfriend after 4 weeks of dating. Yes, it might seem like warp speed,  but life has a funny way of throwing you a curve ball and challenging your preconceived notions. Here's her story:


I’m a firm believer in “me” time and the older I get the more I enjoy solitude. I like hanging with myself. I think I’m great. A friend once described himself as “dangerously reclusive” at times, and while I think he was trying to be funny, I have definitely walked a fine line of this while living alone for the better part of the past 14 years. Until recently.

A history

  • Lived at home until the age of 17 (Mom, Step-dad, sister, dogs) and always had my own room
  • Lived in the dorms freshman and sophomore year of college with a roommate (2000-2001)
  • A couple stints of other roommate situations/living in studio apartments during my junior year of college (2001-2002)
  • Lived in alone in a studio apartment my entire senior year of college and have lived alone ever since. No boyfriends, no roommates, no pets, various house plants (2003-2014)




I moved to New Zealand in February this year and after staying with a friend for a couple weeks upon arrival, intense feelings of ‘overstaying my welcome’ emerged.  I house-sat and traveled around the country for a couple months after that before settling in New Zealand’s capitol city of Wellington.

I stayed on a friend’s couch for my first week I arrived in Wellington while scouring the rental stock and realized pretty quickly that studio apartments don’t really exist here and a lot of people have flatmates. Flatmates, because a roommate means that you’re sharing the same room, which is a topic for another day.

Now I’d done my research before coming all the way to New Zealand and knew somewhat about the flatting culture and that I might not be living with all ladies. I liken it to San Francisco or New York with people well into their 30s flatting due to prices, lack of units, etc. I was also living on savings and thought it might be nice to find a local to live with and show me around.

I found a number of places on trademe.nz, the Kiwi version of craigslist, and set out to find myself a place to call home. I wound up choosing the first and only place I looked at. A 2bd/2ba house in a neighborhood called Brooklyn, right across the road from a library, coffee shop and the bus into downtown. The owner was a nice Kiwi lady, a bit older than me, a teacher and vegetarian. That was five months ago and flatmate living has gone mostly well.

There are days when I really, really miss living alone however. Like not wanting to come home and talk to someone after I’ve been talking all day at work. I’m also essentially just renting a room since I moved out here with a suitcase, so there are times when I feel as though I’m just squatting amongst someone else’s stuff; I am. The upsides are my flatmates’ cooking (she loves to cook) and those days when it’s nice to come home and tell someone about your day. We also get along fine.

That said, I was low key looking at apartments a while ago after getting more assurance about my future in New Zealand and longing for that solitary life of not sharing bills and paper towels and having judgmental comments about my eating habits and the amount of garbage I was putting out for pickup each week lobbed at me.

Around the same time I started seeing someone and we moved quicker than a Young and the Restless plot-line and started seriously talking about me moving in at some point. His flatmate (everyone has them) was conveniently talking about moving out soon.

That was two weeks ago. As of today, I will be moving in with my boyfriend of four weeks, in two weeks. The girl who has never lived with anyone romantically. The girl who hadn’t lived with anyone platonically in 10 years.

The upside of this flatting situation (aside from living with my love of course) is I get the master bedroom and bathroom to myself. He will take the spare room and other bathroom until we look for another place when the lease is up in January. It feels a bit like easing into living together this way, especially for the girl who has been known to come home alone on a Friday night and not leave the house again until Monday morning.

Will I miss the single life? I still miss it. It’s probably time someone got in there before my single living ways crossed over a little too far into that dangerous (weird and set in your weird ways) side though.

I still think this would be the ideal arrangement someday.

2 comments:

T said...

This is actually pretty cool and a very unique story. Please encourage your friend to check in in 6 months and let us know how it's going.

I'm not surprised she's doing it though. I find when I'm out of the country, I do things I wouldn't normally do at home. I'm the same person, but something about having to use my passport makes me consider new perspectives.

I wish them all the best. Tell her to hide her cake in her bedroom though. LOL!

Ishea said...

@ T - I spoke to her the other night and she said things were going really well. They moved in together a few weeks ago, so she said there were the typical adjustments (different ideas of what "clean" meant lol) but having separate bedrooms really did help in terms of each having their own space - - she could go to her room in the morning and get ready, etc... I'll definitely have her write a follow-up post in a few months.

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