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"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." ~John Lennon

So…why does one build a tiny house? For me, the answer was simple. I just needed a place to live. That might sound a little too simple, so I’ll elaborate.

After 7 years in an apartment in Rochester, NY, it was time to move on. I was nearing the end of my twenties, my friends were getting married, buying houses and having babies (as people tend to do at that age). Meanwhile, without a relationship of my own, I found myself trying to hang on to that carefree, fresh out of college feeling that you get before the real life choices start to set in. But there was a problem.

My life lacked enthusiasm. There was nothing happening to me that I was really excited to tell people about. I think deep down I had felt it for a long time, but slowly the realization that I wasn’t being “true to myself’ was pushing its way to the front of my brain. I needed to make a change. I had worked in retail management for years, and if you’ve ever been there, you know what a drain it can be. I always considered myself an outdoorsy person but my daily activities didn’t show it. I had always loved art, but art school was a total burnout and I had lost almost all interest in painting. I wanted to travel but didn’t want to go alone. I was just passively existing. I was waiting for someone else to come along to help me make decisions about where my life should go. Unfortunately that person wasn’t showing up for me. In fact that person, was me but was too afraid to face the facts.

Then an even bigger problem, something I had been dreading, finally arrived. My twin sister, who had been my roommate (along with other friends who came and went) for the last 7 years, wanted to buy a house with her boyfriend. This was inevitable. I knew it would happen. If you’ve been there you know that feeling of oh crap….what now.

As I was worrying over this, something happened. A documentary popped up on Netflix about tiny houses. This documentary was one of the first of it’s kind, as I remember it, and it grabbed our attention. Here’s all of these people on the fringes of society, building amazing little places to call home, while saving money and quitting their crappy jobs. By the time this thing ended my sister turned to me and said “You should do THAT!!" I shrugged and said something like 'meh that’s pretty cool' and sort of brushed it off. Little did I know, a seed had been planted. Could this be the answer?

After stewing on it for a couple of days, or weeks, or months (it’s all cloudy now), I decided to run this idea past my parents. After all, if I was going to do this, I would need help. I would also need a place to live and room to build, and most importantly a place to park my future home. My mom was the first to answer the phone. Of course her response, because my mom is incredibly supportive, was something along the lines of “That would be SO COOL!”…… ok, one parent down, easier than I thought. The tougher sell was going to be my dad. I didn’t think he’d have a problem with me coming home, but I did think he’d be anything but enthused about lending me his time, his tools, his work space, and a big chunk of his backyard in order for me to make this happen. As my mom was handing the phone over I thought to myself this is where the dream ends….

Cut-to: Almost 4 years later. It’s mid May. I’m sitting here on my tiny house deck, watching the sun set over the water, and I’m writing my first blog post about how one time I got this idea, and no one told me no.

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