DISCLAIMER – ChicagoNow sponsored a Blog-a-polooza Hour Challenge that I participated in. I had to write a blog post in one hour about a huge decisions I made in my life. Read this post and enjoy.
Decisions. Decisions. Decisions. We all make decisions that we look back at with pride and decisions we wish we could regurgitate back up. But the one thing about decisions is they are easy to make and hard to reverse.
I am going to write about my decision to move to Chicago in the first place from Milwaukee, which is where I am from. No, I didn’t move to Chicago because it is so much better than Milwaukee or has so much more to offer. I moved to Chicago and specifically Bronzeville, for a man. Yes ladies, for a man. I know this breaks all the panty hose wearing in July, no lipstick nor earrings churchy girl rules. But we only live once, right?
So back to my decision. Yep, I moved to Chicago for a man. At the time, I thought this was the craziest decision I could ever make. What if he stinks? What if he leaves? What if I meet someone ten times cuter and with way more personality(I mean it is Chicago)? What if he hurts me? What if I hurt him? All these questions swirled through my head as I took the leap and packed my bags for Chicago.
I had been in Milwaukee my whole darn life. I had never left my mom before. I went to college in my own city. I mean I stayed on the dorms but I was literally home every weekend (a sista gotta wash) and any random weekday so it really didn’t seem like I was away even though I stayed in the dorms. Then from college I moved back in with my moms for about a year and then moved out when I got my very own first real boyfriend (a sista needs privacy – if you know what I mean). But unfortunately, me and that boo were together through spring and summer and had nothing to be thankful for on Thanksgiving. Over turkey, I literally broke up wit dude. From Thanksgiving to spring again I was single.
Then I met another dude. This dude had it going on in the “black church” kinda way. I mean he was tall, cute, well dressed, unmarried, virgin-isque. Everything the youngest member of a church choir could hope and wish for. This dude was the appearance of a “husband type” and we starting dating in spring. This time by summer I was engaged. Good God!! Damn you flowers in bloom. DAMN YOU!!
With the first night freeze, reality had started to kick in and once again, I was unengaged and uncoupled by Thanksgiving. I know turkey is dry, but damn.
But then spring rolled around again and this time in March, I had a new fling. Unbeknownst to me, this would actually be my final spring-fling-thanksgiving-break-up thingy because this guy ended up being my husband.
And for some crazy reason he refused to rush into things and be my boyfriend right away like all the rest. Say huh? And so we didn’t become an official item until the end of September, making it nearly impossible for me to break up with him over Sweet potato pie and dressing (also known by the whites as stuffing).
I was stuck with him. He had made it through to the next level. Maybe he put in a cheat code or something but it worked and now by August of the next year I was ready to pack my bags and move to Chicago for the love of my life. (Enter violins playing sweetly.)
I had decided. It was final. I had all these things that had to line up before I would take the plunge and move. First, I had to get a job teaching that I was excited about in Chicago. Check. Secondly, I had to have an apartment that I liked and that was reasonable in price in Chicago. Check. (Lake Meadows on the deck) and thirdly, I had to lease out my current apartment prior to moving. Whoops, here’s where the rubber hits the road.
Leasing/subletting my apartment was the only thing I couldn’t get done before I moved to Chicago. Problem is I had already accepted the job offer for a middle school in Chicago and the truth is I really didn’t have a plan. I just assumed that it would be easy to rent out my apartment. Ummm,yea – It was not. Maybe this was due to the fact, that every time I would open the garbage in the morning I would find possums blindly fumbling around for that tasty corn on the cob from last Thursday. Or it could’ve been due to fact, that every night when I got home I was greeted with a friendly wave from Rocket the Raccoons third cousins as they inquired about my dinner plans for the evening. Oh, yea and I can’t forget about the beehive that was built on my kitchen window. Yep, I was in the city but not of the city. A buppie who was definitely ballin on a budget.
So in short, yea it was super hard to rent out that damn apartment. But there was one more problem. The apartment I wanted at Lake Meadows would not accept me until I was out of the lease for the apartment I had in Milwaukee. Damn you, Law. So I was stuck. I either had to decline this great job in Chicago and stay in Milwaukee until my lease was up in October and then move or…or.. Or? There was no Or.
You know why there was no “Or” ,because my boyfriend now husband wasn’t trying to have me move in with him. He wanted his man house all to himself. He had just gotten used to living on his own and did not want me to move in. And yes, this hurt my feelings.
So I had to swallow my pride and ask my boyfriend if I could just stay with him until my lease was up in Milwaukee and then I would move out into my own Chicago apartment. He reluctantly agreed.
But some crazy reason, after living temporarily together for about a month in half he just flat out asked me not to go and asked me to live with him permanently, right when I was starting to repack my bags to move out. Why I must say, this is an interesting turn of events. (spoken with English accent) I guess when you got a good thing you don’t want to lose it to the IIT dorms, otherwise known as, Lake Meadows.
So let’s get back to the point of all this. The point of this post is to write about a decision/s that changed the course of your life for better or worse. Here are the decisions. First one is deciding to move to Chicago on my own so that I could be closer to my long distance Chicago boyfriend. Here’s my rationale: I needed to see how he really lived. I needed to see if he was messy, trifling, conniving or all of the above. There was no way I was going to get that by him living in Chicago and me living in Milwaukee. People put their best faces on when they have time to plan. If this guy is going to be husband material I needed to see the husband he would be in the unexpected moments. You see what I’m sayin? Then I decided to accept his offer to stay with him and not move out to my own apartment once I was actually in Chicago. My rationale: I loved him.
These two decisions changed my life tremendously. I am now married to this guy. I got his kid. Because of this decision I ended up living in Bronzeville and now I have a blog about Bronzeville.
Full circle people. Full circle. I think this would qualify as a decision that changed my life for better or worse. I mean for better or worse was in my marriage vows, guys. And after being married 5 years and together 8, that’s what I’m here for, better or worse.
So you never know where a decision can take you. But you gotta know that never finding out, or discovering, or taking that risk could potentially be the worst decision you could ever make. So go for the gusto. Decide.
Join TheBronze Tribe. Subscribe!!
Type your email address in the box and click the “create subscription” button. My list is completely spam free, and you can opt out at any time.
Filed under: Uncategorized