How Needing to Move Forced Me to Surrender
In the middle of a workout, it occurred to me that I hadn’t heard from my landlord about renewing our lease when I sent her a text February 2024:
Hi! I hope you had a good week! I know we have about three and a half months left until our lease ends for the 12 months, and wasn’t sure exactly when you typically have conversations with tenants about next steps, but wanted to express our interest in wanting to renew the lease as we do love and enjoy the space. Let me know how you’d like to proceed. Thanks!
She responded the next day saying we’d been amazing tenants and would love to renew with us, but wasn’t sure if she and her husband would sell the house or hire a property manager. My heart sank at the mention of her selling the house again. The first time was the previous November when she mentioned it in an email correspondence, but shared that we were locked in with our one year lease and there was nothing to be concerned about. Having followed up a few months later, she asked for a few weeks to talk it over with her husband, and asked if she could get back to me by March 1st. I agreed.
I was holding out hope that she would come back to us saying they decided to hire a property manager, but to my dismay, her email started with something akin to “I’m sorry to say that my husband and I have decided to sell the house…” The rest of the email lead into what next steps would be, but ultimately there was an 80% chance of moving, the 20% reserved for the possibility of the new owners retaining us as current tenants. We wanted to stay, but it would be unwise to plan around that outcome, so now began the process of wrapping my head around the reality of moving. Again.
…
I’d fight against my terrible habit of checking out Hot Pads “just to see what’s out there”, then get FOMO and play myself when I see a listing that seemed perfect but didn’t align with our timeline. I’d think: you’re doing this to yourself. You’re looking too soon.
The next couple of months included days with contractors moving around the property, painting, repairing, adding and changing things here and there to make the place buyer ready. Everything died down for a couple of weeks until our landlord gave me a new timeline of events: when the realtor was coming to take photos of our apartment, when they’d put up the “for sale” sign and list the property online, and when they’d start showing the property. As much as I hated that all this was happening, I had to appreciate how communicative our landlord was about everything. We’d had a great relationship up to that point (she’d even brought us pastries the first time we met in person), she extended our lease to give us more time to find a new place, and asked our opinion on when showings should be scheduled. She only handled the situation the way any tenant would hope, and I knew if I was in her shoes I’d probably sell the house too, so I knew I couldn’t be mad.
But how I felt didn’t care. Internally, I hated being in the position where strangers would enter “my” space, and peer around my things, and form inconsequential opinions based on what they see. I wrestled back-and-forth about whether I should be out of the house to avoid the showings altogether, or stay home rationalizing that maybe they’d move through the space faster if we as occupants were home. I worked myself up about the whole situation until I realized that the best way to move in this situation would be to surrender completely. I had little to no power over the decision to sell, or the contractors, repairs, apartment photos, or the strangers coming into what had become our home. I had to surrender completely. I had to remind myself that this was part of the process. Millions of people in this country rent. And despite how invasive and exposing it feels, it’s not uncommon. I told myself that whether I decided to be present during the showings or disappear, no decision was a bad one, and I had to remind myself that there is an “other side” to this experience. I will see the other side. Whether that is in a new place or staying in our current one, this won’t be my reality forever. Surrendering is the only way to see the other side empowered.
