An Ode to My Apartment | Cultivating Gratitude

Yaa AA
3 min readSep 27, 2020

A few mornings ago, I was sitting on my balcony and I was thinking about how I couldn’t wait to move. You see, I wanted to move last year but due to some difficulties I was not able to. So for the last 2 years, I have called this place home.

When I think of where I live, I think of how I have no views, I face another building. I think of how the balcony might actually cave in, the robbery, and the sale of narcotics that have been reported on site.

As I sat on my balcony, wishing and rushing for something else, a thought came to my head saying “this place has served you so well.” Then I started thinking about the beginning of my apartment searching journey. I wanted something inexpensive but also safe as I lived alone. I wanted somewhere close to my work place, I wanted something cozy. I wanted something I could call my own. Somewhere I could call home. Up until that time, I felt like my life was in limbo and although not bad, I felt unsettled.

This apartment gave me my own space and a place to settle.

When I walked into my apartment the day I received my keys, I did the inspection as required. I saw some painted over dents, a moldy dishwasher, a semi-rusted bathroom ceiling and a carpet that smelled a little like a puppy lived there before me. But I danced with no music, cleaned the dishwasher myself without complaining and took photos to send to my older brother, declaring that I finally live alone. Something I had always wanted to do.

This apartment taught me to dance upon any disappointment.

Before moving in, I did the pinetrest things. You know what I am talking about, saving photos and photos of how I wanted my apartment to look like, the utensils I was going to purchase, I wanted a yellow tea kettle. I wanted drapes and drapes of white curtains, I wanted plants everywhere, and, and, and… But when I finally moved in and was shopping, I realized I didn’t need all of that. I just need a home for my books, a table for my food, pots that will enable me to cook and a bed that will not cause my back to ache. I didn’t need much.

This apartment taught me how to truly live small and simple.

At the beginning of the pandemic, one of my friends texted me and she said, and I am paraphrasing: this pandemic is hard for everyone, but I can’t imagine having to go through it alone. One thing about living alone is the fact that you are alone. I loved that for the most part, but there were days where I would be extremely lonely and honestly just cry. I would think, if something were to happen to me, i would not have any help especially if I was unable to use my phone for whatever reason. But day and night, I had this space to turn to. To just lie here knowing that I have shelter, that I can adjust the temperature of the room, that I can sing without getting on anyones nerves, that I can just be myself.

This apartment held my tears, shared in my fears, and became a place of comfort. A place I couldn’t wait to get back to after a long day of work or dealing with the unkindness of this world. This apartment became my haven and I can say without a shadow of a doubt that it has served me well. In fact so well.

Amidst, all the centipedes that would crawl its way into my carpets. ewww

--

--