Stability. That was the theme my upset self was under going as I told mum in concrete terms, that I was staying put in Sydney the start of 2018. The whole family was flying back after Christmas in the city, but I wasn’t done with getting my own feet some independence and stability.
As an excellent mother, mine tried persuading me with a few threats to come back up to the family base. When she saw my mind was made up, she tried the next best thing – take advantage of a family member renting the house. Luckily she gave me a few crazy words and with that, told me I had a certain amount of time to find people to put into our house – or else, I was on my own.
What happened several months down the track is, I found my own brosephs. (housemates turned brothers) **
To get to that point: I wrote that I didn’t tolerate 3 months in and 3 months out, travellers or couples or students. I asked for people just like me, young professionals seeking like-minded people. Open minded, intelligent and giving people who were also either on top of their stuff or working towards being on top.
Luckily for me again, the house is in top quality and awesome to live in so I was able to – after loads of square butts and staring at the screen, follow ups and much stress – organize viewings and know in 5 seconds whether I liked the person enough to live with them.
Why don’t we do this with dates?
– anyway, back to the point. It wasn’t until I organized a viewing with the third housemate coming in (second housemate was moving out) that I realized a pattern between all 3 of us.
I wasn’t the only one badly needing some stability – a decent house, people not moving for at least a year or so, trust and nice things. A space to be, grow and a chance to improve each other’s lives.
I told mum in a confidential chat, as the third housemate was moving in, to take her time figuring out what to do with the property because I sensed we all needed a type of family and some moral support. For another 2 years for sure.
Because all 3 of us were in some way, robbed of such a thing. All of us had split parents, moved around for a while and faced poor quality of housing. From co dependant exes with leases to unsocial and dishonest flatmates, to sharing space with parents from another generation who didn’t appreciate your stuff being all over the house.
How are you supposed to grow and mature when you don’t have the space for any acceptance, comfort or support? … worse, if your heart is broken or scattered between countries without realizing. I felt this keenly as Mum and stepdad up and left. And even more interesting when your friends are also scattered. One bro told me the majority of his friends have gone somewhere and another told me about his school best mate and his tolerance for people who don’t give back good friendship.
My brosephs saw a nice house in a convenient location with a kind landlady and I told mum, when you see something special you treat it well. If I could like them and trust them with the house, they would be honoured to look after it and listen to me when something needed to be done. It was an opportunity to look after something.
Legally speaking, that’s the base line. Morally, it worked out great.
I called this the modern tale of peter pan: why it sprung to mind is because I feel the current economy just doesn’t support manhood unless you came from a privileged background of good parenting and a good household cash flow.
I know this because I have lived with manly men, and with boyish guys. What the heck is the difference? I might have spoken about it when I was going out ‘officially’ with this guy (post) but slow growth is mostly from lack of opportunities to prove their masculinity; lack of challenge and good male role models. Manly men don’t mind pain, they don’t mind pleasing their women and don’t mind ruling their roost when time comes. They like being transparent and useful.
Why would I relate the lost boys to my bros? Because in an odd way, they are. There’s work, there’s pleasure – something to pay the bills and a playground to explore their tastes – gaming, cooking, dating, soccer and karate. There’s the side chicks and the ‘almost’ ex. One shows convenience and the other, reluctance to part with someone that brings up what they should work on in themselves.
Mostly however, the slight trauma in maturity is from their willingness to stand up and fight to keep harmony within their families. That takes a toll.
I appreciate the boys that live with me and I made that public; it has been a journey of understanding how crap my communication can be purely because I don’t want to be a burden on someone else… and I’m so used to being tactful with my words, it can backfire on people who only want to help.
Secondly the first bro told me about the masculine point of view and gave me new appreciation. Thirdly… there’s nothing like hosting a viewing for people of your age that makes you feel wealthy.
I’m now smiling at all the questions leading to bonding like – ‘do we do movie night? Are we doing brunch? Are we doing the snow trip next year?’
** Broseph term: