I’m officially moving away from my hometown next week.
With all the traveling around the world I’ve done, I’ve always come back home. I’ve always seen it as home. But as much as I Iove my city, the city of New Orleans, I’m not sure my embers burn for it the same way anymore.
WIth plans suddenly reversing on the great deal I thought I’d found, my decision to stay rooted in place changed. My comfort was disrupted and it was best to move by the next expiration, clean and neat, but quick because staying would double and deepen everything past the point of reasonableness!
And guess WHY I’m so extra??? It’s all NOLA's fault. I was bred to be a diva.
Question: Tasha, why do you have to live ‘just so’? Why are you like this?
Answer: Because New Orleans.
But these artificially inflated housing prices have got to pop the bubble soon!
(Damn, NOLA. What are you? San Francisco???)
That only gave me 30 days to figure something out, but I had already been researching another area anyway, so my choice was clear. I was calm and could get collected.
Still…it was annoying to do so this quickly.
Had I been given a few more months, I’d have had more options. One of them could have been NOLA. I’ve been thriving exactly because I was a planning person by nature and with my ex out of my life, money is being managed with the good stewarding skills I’ve gained over the years watching other folks bags burn up.
I’m better off solo because I made it a permanent part-time job to know my numbers and I use my foresight more than I take risks that feel like tall gambles and fast highs. My stabilization over the past 3 years is something I’m proud of because it took so much sacrifice and help from people who unconditionally love me to get here.
FINALLY! I had it all mapped out. From here, I was thinking of doing…I mean, just a few more months and I could have…sigh.
Oh well. Que sera sera.
I’ve been equal parts lucky and frugal since my divorce so it’s extremely important for me to commit another couple of years to my plan. The rebuilding of my financial foundation is almost complete. To jump to double my expenses earlier than my timeline for the sake of one cultural event or one brunch with friends a month throws off so much for my kid’s stability. I’m too practical a person to pay gentrification-premiums on street names where my traumatic memories still live and where appropriation forces my hand.
Less space? More time before I can increase my net worth? What do I get for it?
Black women have done enough. I’ve compromised to the limit of my loyalty. I want my 40 acres and I refuse to let a city pimp me into believing that now is the time when my plans say nope…wait a little longer and yeah, no, not for THAT price.
It’s so conflicting and the current housing crisis and our rampant capitalism’s rules don’t help. I’m saying this as a person willing to skrimp and save for what she really wants.
Don’t get me started on what I know I deserve because of how hard I work and the humiliation of having to be ‘approved’ to live somewhere with dignity, safe enough for me and my teenager. The evaluation process, such as it is, is backward and gives no proof of potential for keeping a financial commitment. How many privileged twenty-somethings hop jobs and break leases but live wherever they think it’s cute? Have I been that financially flippant? Sure I have debts, but I have a plan and I know this system is built around things that are in place until they’re not. I don’t just change my mind because I can. I’ve been on the other side of the lease and the hiring interview.
Still…it makes me sad (and obviously a little bit pissed) if I dwell on it too long.
I’ll always have a pied a terre here. I’ll be back a few times every year. My friends, my heart, my soul’s core, my comfort, my favorites, so many of my firsts and starts for things large and small, some commitments that had to break, so much pain and frustration will all be waiting for me when I roll back through. I love this place. It’s like a cheeky mistress. New Orleans never really let’s you go.
It wasn’t what I wanted to do this soon but I’m glad I had the few options I did. Whenever there's a chance to shift energy toward what aligns with my future goals anyway, my intuition takes over.
I’ll take the bet when I’m betting on me. ;}
My privacy-peacekeeping angel says ‘Tasha, don’t announce where you’re going. Save that for the ‘need-to-know’ group.’
Yes ma’am.
My overthinking demon chimes in…It ain’t Hollywood or cute and popular enough to be easily understood so, there's that. We are gonna go live simply for a minute. And trust me, I’m urban but I ain't stupid. It ain't TOO backwoods. If you know me, you know those numbers work. It’s a good decision.
I hear her while I quiet-cry a little. Then I quickly dry my eyes. Can’t do the ‘goodbye’ party thing. Can’t face some of the sweetest people I know right now not knowing exactly when I’ll see their faces again. I’ll get by with a couple of quick hugs sans the eye contact and I’ll reach out one by one. I’ll sit by the river one more time and have another drive-by or two by my favorite places. (Yes, I am this dramatic! 😅IYKYK) Disconnecting is never fun from a place you KNOW you’ll forever be attached too, but you know what they say…
You can’t always grow where you’re planted.
With a clear head, kleenex handy, balanced excel sheets, dream scripts and novel drafts backed up, pitches practiced, creative production plans brewing, side hustles secured and this one butterfly that refuses to take a damn seat in my stomach…I’m out, y’all.
Deep breaths. We are gonna be alright.
~T
