I have been lucky with all my the flats I have lived in. It never took more than one to visit to know this was the one that would I would become my home. Maybe I am just easy going that I have never complain much about what I get. But for me all I wanted was a queen size bed and a nice kitchen with an oven, not a bigger toaster where Europeans call an oven.
Home for me is where I find peace and I heavily underestimated how long finding a place that would fit me. I went to over 25 places, in a midst of huge frustrations, great places but not the right fit of people. Great people but not the right place.
Although my friend Farah would have hosted me for as long as I needed. I felt unsettled, not having a space to call your own is frustrated. I sympathized with all the refuges who were struggling to find their place. How long and painful it must be for them not knowing if they will ever have a new place to replace the old one. And I become grateful.
Finally after weeks of torture, I think I found my fit.
