Me? Shopping for a house?


Me. The same person who a little over 4 years ago was so broke I couldn’t afford my rent and when I told my landlords that I would have to move out they said, “No. Stay. When you get a job you can pay us back. We believe in you, Susan.”

I will never forget that moment. At a time when it seemed no doors would open my dear landlords promised not to lock me out of my own. That show of unbelievable compassion, faith and trust gave me courage to keep going… one more day.

And, eventually, I did get a job, I did pay them back and now, after eight years of renting this wonderful condo, it’s time to say good-bye. They are selling this place and it has given me the push I needed to make the leap.

I’m buying a house.

I have dreamed of this since the moment I became a mom and wanted to give my child the world. The world included a house with a yard and a place she could forever call home.

Of course, dreams change when life takes turns. Turns like divorce, unemployment and financial instability. So for my daughter’s entire life I have always rented. We’ve moved three times. Each place telling a story. Each move part of a journey. Each address pieces of a bigger puzzle.

All of them containing one common thing. Love. Heart. Hope.

I learned along the way that a home truly is where the heart is. Not about square footage or location or whether there’s a pool or a tree house.

No, a home is where the hugs are huge, the kisses are plenty, the laughter is loud and the dancing is non-stop.

My daughter has had a home. Always.

So this next move is another chapter of our book. The chapter that tells the tale of a single mom who never gave up, who learned from her mistakes, who humbled herself in the face of failure and financial shame, who stayed honest, sober and present and had a child who was her biggest supporter, best teacher, and greatest reason for going forward no matter what.

Today we are looking for a house to buy. To own. To fill with love. And it will belong to my daughter one day. And she will always know the story of how we got there. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll tell it to her kids.

I hope they dance.