Moving Home.

My partner and I have moved home this weekend; albeit only two doors down. As well as the obvious physical exhaustion of moving house, one often forgets the emotional exhaustion that often goes unnoticed  - unnoticed until you sit down in the late afternoon, thoroughly shattered, with a cup of English Breakfast tea and a deep sigh.

We all move house for a reason - size, location, money, moving in with friends or a loved one - but even so it is difficult to remain analytical and objective. It is rarely a rash decision, yet as we start packing boxes and wrapping candle holders in the shape of lighthouses into bubble wrap we doubt our decision.

For us, we were moving into a bigger flat, with 2 bedrooms, a modern kitchen and no Estate Agents (thank goodness for the latter!). All good things I think you'll agree. But we were leaving behind our first home - our flat with the shabby kitchen, the bathroom door that never stayed open, and the oversized 80's storage heaters. It was small, and if we went away for the weekend it would smell musty when we came home, but it was home.

Joe and I have very different styles. At University my room was light with yellow bedsheets, bookshelves full of neatly arranged and catalogued books, and my signature pink music stand standing proud in the corner. Joe's room was darker, with work pinned to the walls, books stacked haphazardly on shelves, and smoking paraphernalia scattered over the desk. I shan't lie and say I wasn't nervous when we first moved in together. But, as always seems to be the way with our relationship, we found an odd compromise and have created our home over the last 18 months.

I was more excited to move than Joe. I was looking forward to the lovely kitchen, the additional space, the lovely landlords - I was so excited that I hadn't realised the meaning of leaving behind Flat 3. Joe, however, is always tuned into these things and had realised this from the start. We have loved our first home, and have had some wonderful memories there - including getting far too drunk and falling asleep on the kitchen floor (classy, I know). But in reality this is what it is about. The memories. The important step in a relationship that will forever be on your list of firsts. We aren't losing any of these things by moving house, we are simply paving the way for new ones.

We are lucky to have amazing friends and we had a small army helping us move house. We've already had laughter, anecdotes and more cups of tea than you can shake a stick at, and we've only been here two days.

What I'm trying to say, I think, is that it is important to recognise the emotions tied to moving house, but also to recognise that change is good and enables us to create new memories, create a new home. And I have no doubt that Flat 5 has some of it's own quirks awaiting us...