Many of you have followed my journey since the beginning, back when this blog was about achieving a dream: to live tiny with someone else. Has the dream changed now that I live alone? Do I have regrets about building the tiny house? Is this still the life I want? As I bring in the New Year, I reflect on tiny house relationships and independence.
Let me tell you a story. It’s about wish fulfillment.
When I was a young girl, about 6 or 7 years old, I was asked to make a wish on my birthday. As I leaned over my cake, adorn with lit candles, I thought long and hard about my wish. Most young girls would wish for a pony, a doll or a puppy, but every tangible item that floated into my mind seemed insignificant. I wanted something bigger; something that couldn’t fade or die. I hovered, frozen over my candles, and suddenly a wish came to me.
I exhaled with all my might.
The candles extinguished, but the room was bright.
I’ve made that exact same wish a hundred times since that day. Whenever I toss a penny into a well, see a shooting star, and every year on my birthday. Always the same wish. Never another. Do you want me to reveal my wish? I’ll tell you…
“I wish to live a long and happy life.”
Simple, yes. Yet this wish is everything. Material items and relationships may change. Even tiny house relationships are not exempt. Change is constant, but the choice to be happy will always be mine.
I spent the majority of 2016 worried I could not live alone in my tiny house. Physically, I didn’t know if I could maintain it. Economically, I wondered if I could afford it. Mentally, I was afraid of associating it with broken dreams. It is especially challenging when I read old articles, such as last year’s New Years post. A lot can happen in a year.
I’m learning to live tiny all over again.
There are moments when I am frustrated with living alone in this space. These instances happen when something breaks, a loud noise frightens me, or when I’m lonely. But then I remind myself of my wish and I work towards making it come true.
Every day the atmosphere inside my tiny house replaces itself. Today it’s stuffy, but tomorrow it may feel like a hug. I find comfort in that. The more I live alone in this space, the more I find it hard to believe I ever shared it with someone else. I continue to be impressed with my ability to adapt.
The reason I’m sharing this with all of you is because I get a lot of questions about tiny house relationships. I believe it takes a special kind of person to live tiny with someone else, but it is possible. There are no guarantees, but living tiny and love have one thing in common: they both require you to throw caution to the wind.