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I did the long distance thing with my boyfriend for five years. We’d discussed moving in together for at least three of those years, but it wasn’t until I moved to a bigger city and into an apartment all by myself that the stars aligned and he finally found a job in the same place as me.
Truth be told, we weren’t long-long distance. We lived about two hours away and got to see each other most weekends. But there’s a drastic difference between devoting an entire two days out of the week to someone (aka doing whatever you two want to do and being at your best because it’s the freakin’ weekend), and trying to tolerate that same person when you both work full-time and share a 674-square foot (aka TINY) apartment. To say the least, moving in with my boyfriend was pretty similar to the Hunger Games. And I’m still alive — just sayin’.
Regardless of the amount of distance between you, moving in with someone is a major, major, MAJOR adjustment, to say the least. What used to be your place to retreat to after a long day at work, what used to be a peaceful evening spent with a glass (aka bottle) of rosé and a good book, what used to be a Netflix queue of your shows and ONLY your shows, is now replaced by a living, breathing person, asking you a million and one questions (“but how can Jane really be a pregnant virgin???”), leaving the toilet seat up, and telling you your leopard print bedspread is too “girly.”
I’m painting a bit of a one-sided picture, which isn’t completely fair. I’ve been living with the bae for about two months now, and I’m still learning that it’s not okay to yell at him when he comes home to find me watching Sailor Moon Crystal and asks if he ~*~hAs~*~ to watch it. I’ve got a lot to learn, but there are a few perks. I actually got inspired to write this when I came home after work one day to find my boyfriend waiting outside in the pouring rain, with an umbrella just for me. He ran over to my car, and when I asked him what the hell he was doing, he replied that he simply didn’t want me to have to run through the rain alone.
Did I need him to escort me? No. I carry my own umbrella. But it sure was nice to be reminded that someone loves me enough to wait for me in the rain just because. So I guess my point is that living with your boyfriend isn’t ALL bad.
Pro: You’ve got a full-time binge-watching partner.
One of the best things about living with my boyfriend is the collection of “our shows” we’ve built up. He tends to hate the shows I watch at first, but then over time, he grows to love them. Case in point, our first week of living together, I was in the middle of season 4 of Gilmore Girls. He constantly complained about the “weird” way they talked. About a week into our new living situation, however, I came home from work to find him glued to the TV — and just guess what was on the TV screen?
When you live with your special somebody, you never have to binge-watch alone again. And that is a truly beautiful thing.
Con: You have to share the TV.
As I’m sure you’re well aware by now, I’m pretty protective of my Netflix and Hulu choices. I like what I like, and it’s not open for much discussion. However, part of living with someone (unfortunately) is compromise.
If the two of you just can’t agree on a show to watch, I’ve learned to give in from time to time. Living with someone is all about choosing your battles, and TV just shouldn’t be one of them. If he really wants to watch Breaking Bad, either suffer through it every now and then or find something else to do while he’s glued to the TV. Maybe, IDK, find a hobby. Go read. Go work on your fitness. But at least give him (some) TV time.