Angry

I'm angry. I'm angry that we did the right thing when we sold our house. We didn't walk away. We shelled out our hard earned savings to pay back our mortgage. To give our house away to someone who felt entitled to the very frames on our walls. Who didn't relent until there was nothing left to give. We moved in with family to rebuild our nest egg. How naive we were to think it would only be a few months. We worked and waited. We focused on more important things.

The time has finally come. But we're finally moving home. Our house is ours waiting to be filled. I've found a job. So why am I angry? Purchasing a home is expensive and I feel we've once again had to shell out our hard earned money. With one income at around half our current income, we're forced to compromise our values in order to afford to live. Our philosophy is quality over quantity. Living minimally with nice things. Paying extra for food and items that are gentler on the planet. Living in our means has led to compromising our ethics. 

We've cut back as much as we can and are still just getting by. It's humbling to have to check your bank account before making purchases. Could we have saved better? Maybe. We had some unforseen expenses with Gemma in the NICU and my own stay hospital stay and rehabilitation, and moving has brought about it's own expenses. New license plates, more expensive car insurance and the like. I just feel like we can't get our feet underneath us. Don't misunderstand, I'm not upset that we've have to tighten our belts around here. We're home and that's what matters. I have a good job with health insurance and we're making it. It's the "right" thing we did by paying back our drowning mortgage that has led us to where we are. And that's what makes me so angry.