Relationships: 6 Facts You Should Know About Leaving the Nest and Moving in With Your Boyfriend

   My boyfriend and I have a bit of an unusual arrangement. We live together, out of the nest, but we used to live together in "the nest" too! I often say my boyfriend is like family to me, and in a lot of ways we have kind of a sibling dynamic (don't get weirded out!) in addition to the relationship dynamic. No matter the dynamic we used to have, living together (on our own) is so different from what our lives used to be when we lived with his family! Here are some of the harsh realities of moving out from your parents' place and moving in together.

1) There is no dish fairy. NO DISH FAIRY! Shockingly, this comes as a surprise to us just about every other day. As I am typing this, I'm thinking about the fact that Ethan and I have no clean drinking glasses OR silverware to speak of. They're all covered in peanut butter, flour, and various unrecognizable leftovers. One of several benefits of living with your parents (or your boyfriend's parents) is, if you have overly loving and giving parents, that they do the dishes. Even yours! I'm talking burnt on food, mashed potatoed bowls, and numerous ice cream and hot fudge bowls. We want dish fairies.

2) Ladies, you WILL become a nagging screechy scary person. Hopefully you won't feel that way all the time- but it's a reality. Why won't you clean without me having to ask you? I asked you five times already- could you please take out the trash. I don't want your dirty socks on the bed, thrown randomly on the floor, or on the dining room table. Please put your dishes away? Remember to lock the door! Feed the cat when I'm away- I don't like dead cats. Why do you have to leave your underwear in the bathroom? Please don't brush your teeth in the shower. I don't want to know when or hear when you clip your toe nails. Don't make the bed that way. Remember to use SOAP when washing dishes, otherwise I have to go in and do them all over again! Turn off the light when you leave the room. Please flush sometimes? These are things I guarantee you will be saying.

3) Things get a lot lonelier. When you move out and on your own, even if it is with your partner, your schedules change and the adjustment can be really rough. Ethan's going to school and I'm not so I'm home long before he is...or even all day and when he gets home, sometimes all he wants to do is play some video games and chill and all I want to do is talk and cuddle and get out of the house. Or pout. Transition is always hard at first, especially when two of you are transitioning at the same time.

4) The money stuff gets more complicated. So- we live together, we're partners, but one of us has more money than the other? Well- your parents are paying for you but I'm paying for myself, and they're helping me with x,y, and z. Do I owe them a certain amount of money because I'm not their child? Do you owe them a certain amount of money because you ARE their child? Should we both work? Who writes the rent check? Who pays for cable? Who pays for furniture- do you pay for it because you're really the only one who cares what kind of curtains and mixer you have? Does that mean he pays for the TV? Well, who gets what if we break up? Oh my god- how am I going to afford moving out if we break up? Maybe I shouldn't pay for anything we share. Is he keeping tabs? Should I?

5) Dating gets harder. My boyfriend and I love each other and we enjoy each other's company but now that we spend so much concentrated time with one another and money is tight, it's harder to "date" and feel like a young couple. We often refer to our lifestyle as "living like 30 year olds" and we love it! But sometimes, I wish we were younger, emotionally. It's not all bad though! We've learned to really love cooking together and getting dressed up just to go to the park or go grab dessert can be really nice and, more than ever, I feel like I have a partner. He's my cozy, awesome, supportive mister.

6) You pawn tasks off on each other a lot more often and being "fair" can get kind of thrown out the window. No body loves taking the garbage out, or going down to the basement to do laundry- especially when you have to lug your shit up and down 4 flights of stairs. I go back and forth between being the dreaded chore-chart girlfriend, and the "I don't want to do that- you do that and I'll do the easier thing," girlfriend. This would be amusing, except your partner isn't your annoying ass roomie you can get away with pushing around....they're your partner you elected to live with and share a bed with, and hopefully, you appreciate. I find it really hard to step back, be less bossy, and get off my own but and share the work 50/50. I also find it hard not to get angry when I'm doing some lame chore and he's getting to lounge and hang out on his computer or do homework. Even if he did just get off from school and he helped out a ton earlier. It's definitely a tough balance.

Sleep Forever Little Baby: A Self Portrait

   I haven't painted or created any sort of art in a really long time. Painting can be a really intimidating sort of thing, and if you haven't done it in a while, it just gets harder and harder to work yourself up to starting the process. I always get so caught up in worrying about the subject matter and how I'm going to actually convey what I'm feeling when I'm painting and whether or not the finished product would be something I'd want to put on my wall (which it never is) but I find that if I blast my music loud enough, make a big mess, and just start going it works out best.
   This painting isn't about abortion, though I know it kind of looks that way. Before I was born, my mom miscarried two children and was left totally scarred by it. After she had me, she'd always tell me how she wished I was the child she miscarried- like she wanted to trade me for something better or wished I had died in her womb too. I know ultimately, it's not a commentary on me, but rather on her and how unhappy she is with her life and how much she felt the need to hurt me and others in general just to feel a little bit okay about herself but, being so young and hearing about how my mom didn't want me- didn't love me. Wished I had died. It gets to me anyway. When I'm feeling at my worst this is all I think about. Sometimes I really just wish I was one of those almost born babies who just didn't quite make the cut. There's something about the bond a mother and child should have that really dictates how you feel about your place in the world. For a mother to not want her child, even after getting to bond with and really watch that child grow is just devastating. It tends to make me feel like I really screwed up somewhere along the road.
   In a way, this piece is about my relationship with my mom.

This piece was made with paprika, turmeric, beets, tea, coffee, beets, colored pencil, sharpie, and plastic packaging.