Beyond The Decree

I’m introverted. I’ll admit it.

Social gatherings drain my energy. Communicating all day at work is exhausting. Meeting new people is exhausting. And there’s nothing quite like getting home to a quiet house at the end of the day and finally being able to decompress.

Unless, of course, you have a 10-year-old, high-energy wild child accompanying you in said house.

So, no. My house is not always the quiet oasis my introverted soul dreams about. It’s loud. There are random noises. There are approximately 47 questions asked while I’m trying to change out of my work clothes. But it’s full of love, and there’s something to be said for the freedom that comes with being the only adult in the house.

There are so many things about being the only adult in a home that I had no idea I would enjoy.

After a long day of work and school, the evening is ours.

If we want to have dessert first, we can.

If we want to sprawl out on the couch for 30 minutes before doing homework or chores, we can.

If I want to leave my dirty clothes in a pile on the floor, who’s going to say anything about it? Me? I’ll deal with myself later.

If I come home full of energy and want to sing and dance around the kitchen with my son, no one is watching. No one is judging. There’s no other adult whose mood I need to read, schedule I need to consider, or preferences I need to accommodate.

It’s just us.

And it’s freeing.

I can decorate the house however I want, or I don’t have to decorate it at all. I can rearrange furniture at 9 p.m. because I suddenly decided the couch would look better somewhere else. I can live on snacks on days I don’t feel like cooking. I can walk around naked (obviously on kid-free weekends). I can use the bathroom with the door open. I can sleep wherever I want, nap when I want, leave a mess or keep everything spotless. I can play whatever music I want, watch whatever shows I want, and order takeout without having a committee meeting about where it’s coming from.

There is no committee.

I am the committee.

And as silly as some of those things sound, there’s something incredibly liberating about being the only adult in a home. Especially when it’s a home you own and pay for entirely on your own.

There’s a pride in that I didn’t expect.

And it’s not just because I can say the house is mine. It’s because everything that comes with it is mine, too.

When something breaks, I figure it out. When a decision needs to be made, I make it. The bills, the appointments, the repairs, the schedules, the endless little things that keep a house and a life running, they all land on me.

And yes, sometimes that part sucks.

There are absolutely days when I would love to hand a problem to another adult and say, “Your turn.”

But there’s also something incredibly empowering about realizing how capable you are when there isn’t anyone else to defer to. I don’t have to ask what someone else thinks we should do. I don’t have to convince anyone. I don’t have to wait for someone else to handle it.

I just handle it.

Somewhere along the way, I have to do everything myself quietly became I can do everything myself.

And those are two very different feelings.

But more importantly, living without another adult in the house gives you the freedom to become the most you version of yourself.

When no one else is there, there’s no one to perform for. No one to impress. No one whose expectations quietly influence the way you spend your evenings, decorate your home, fold your towels, spend your Saturday mornings, or exist in your own space.

You start figuring out what you actually like.

What music you play when no one else gets a vote. What you do with a completely empty Saturday. Whether you actually care if the laundry gets folded immediately or if that was just something you thought adults were supposed to care about.

And somewhere among the takeout containers, kitchen dance parties, unfolded laundry, quiet nights, and occasionally questionable dinner choices, you start becoming really comfortable with your own company.

I didn’t expect that part.

I thought living without another adult might feel lonely.

Sometimes it does.

But mostly?

It feels like home.