she believed she could so she did

At the beginning of 2021, I had a lot of goals. A lot of big ideas. 

But, 

“DREAM HOME” 

was at the top of my manifestation list.

The apartment was always meant to be temporary. Jack and I moved there in the fall of 2019, when I was a few months pregnant with Sev. We built our foundation at that apartment with the little blue couch. It’s where we became a family. It’s where we fell in love again. 

But I dreamed of more. I wanted space. A sanctuary.

I wanted room for Sev to play! A yard for a dog. I wanted to pull into a garage and take my groceries straight inside, instead of taking an elevator. 

I wanted roots. A place we can paint the walls. A place we can grow our family. Measure height’s in the garage. 

I didn’t really want anything else. I was content. I liked my Mazda CX-5. I didn’t really crave traveling like I used to. Clothes didn’t excite me as much anymore.

But a home…that’s all I saw when I closed my eyes.

We’ve talked about my attachment issues. You all know I fall hard fast. 

In Junior High, the moment I caught eyes with any skinny 13 year old with a Justin Bieber haircut…I’d plan our entire lives together. I would spend class daydreaming. Wondering how the school would react to the latest power couple. Would his last name go with mine? I’d write it 20 times in my notebook, practicing, just in case. 

And then, after weeks of fantasizing in my head, I’ll see him hug - yes, HUG - a prettier seventh grader in the hallway. Probably named Maddy. 

Crushed, but hardly surprised, I move on to the next mop headed boy that asks for a piece of gum.

This was the same cycle with houses. 

Jack & I would scroll Zillow like it was Tinder. 

And when we would find a gem, it was hard to get my hopes down. I can’t get on board with that type of purchase and commitment unless I can imagine my self living there…in love with it. 

So after all of that imagining, it sucks to refresh the page 20 minutes later and see the house has been taken off the market.

But house hunting in real life was even worse.

We looked for a few months. We were looking for a 3 bedroom house with a yard and a garage. That’s about as picky as we could get. But nothing was standing out. It was starting to get stressful. Prices were insane, and every house we looked at was miles outside of our budget. If you could even come to terms with a house outside of budget, you’re still probably stuck in a bidding war. Ahhh! I’m getting flashbacks. 

So we took a break from house hunting for a month. I deleted Zillow. I stopped caring.

But the end of march, I got a text from a friend. They were moving into a gorgeous neighborhood on the lake, and they sent me a link to an available lot nearby. 

My heart leaped.

I was getting on a flight when I got the text, and had to buy wifi so I could fully take it all in. To better envision exactly what it would be like to live there. 

This one felt different.

It was…perfect. In every. single. way. Perfect enough for me to make a Pinterest board for the house, right then and there on the plane.

The right size. The right style. The most incredible view I could never have even dreamed up. 

There was just one problem…

It was almost double our budget. 

Normally, I would have written it off immediately. Theres no point in entertaining the idea. But this time, on that plane, there was something in me that let myself keep dreaming. Of what it would be like. Walks by the lake. Writing my book in a peaceful environment. Bringing more babies home. Teaching Sev to ride a bike…I let myself go there. I let myself get attached. 

I called the builder the next way. We drove to the lot the day after.

I had to see it in person. I had to feel it in person.

And ohhhh did I feel it.

It felt familiar. Like we’d been there before. 

“This is it babe” I said to Jack on our drive back to our apartment. 

I was buzzing. But he wasn’t so sure. Nobody was. 

I showed my parents photos of the house plans with wide eyes. They responded with even wider eyes. 

“Are you sure?” “This is a really big commitment” “Can you even qualify for that type of loan?”

I know they just want the best for me. Everyone who offered their opinion was simply looking out for me. 

But I took everyone’s skepticism as the sign I needed that I was in over my head. 

I gave up on the house completely. 

“Yeah…what was I even thinking?” was what I found myself saying every now and then when I’d daydream about it. 

In the following weeks I felt silly. Silly for feeling so momentarily confident. 

I ghosted the builder. I deleted the Pinterest board. I detached. 

And I regretted it every day for two months. 

Jackson searched every corner of the internet to find another house that would get me excited. And there were some cool ones. But none of them were that house. That house that felt like mine. I knew no matter what we got, it wouldn’t compare. So anything else felt like settling. 

A few weeks into May, I was walking out of a therapy appointment when I see a voicemail notification from the builder. It had been months since we talked. 

“Hey Indy, I just wanted to call and let you know that the buyers backed out and the house is available. We have about 10 people on the waiting list, but since your friends are close I wanted to give you the first opportunity.”

My heart was on fire.

“We want it.”

I responded immediately without even consulting Jackson.

I let my dream house slip through my fingers before. I was not about to let it happen again. 

Putting down a deposit on a house is scary. It’s a big deal. The weeks leading up to our deadline, my “voice of reason” got louder and louder, trying to convince me of a safer path. 

“What if I can’t get the loan?”

“What if everyone hates Lonely Ghost in a year?”

“What the fuck is escrow????”

But fighting back, was the part of me who knew I could do it. I mean, I’m not the type of person to jump into something like this unless I am confident deep down that I can pull it off.  

I didn’t realize it then, but the part of me that believed in myself was finding it’s voice.

And that voice was going to make itself heard this time around. '

The night before we paid our deposit, I was spiraling. The money was non refundable. This was it. I really had to make sure this was going to work. That I’d be able to make this happen. 

I called friends, family, accountants, realtors, anyone who could lend some helpful insight before I make this big decision.

But I think what I really wanted, was some reassurance. Validation that I wasn’t crazy. I would trust anyone but myself.

So, when the advice I received that day felt layered with caution and doubt…I crumbled.

I sat in the stairwell at the top floor of my apartment building, sobbing. I looked up at the ceiling and dramatically cried out, “why doesn’t anyone belieeeveee in meee???”

I felt capable, but the lack of confidence in everyone around me filled me with uncertainty.

I just wanted someone else to believe in me too. 

I got up off of the stairs and walked back to our apartment. I threw myself on the LBC (little blue couch) melting into a pile of despair. 

I found myself uncomfortably laying on a piece of paper, so I grabbed it, only to realize it was an envelope.

A letter, maybe?

It was addressed to me, from one of my followers. She had dmed me a few weeks earlier and asked to send her graduation announcement. Seven must have been playing with it because it mysteriously made its way from the kitchen table to…under my face. I picked it up and opened it. 

It was a photo of Tori looking stunning in cap and gown, surrounded by her family. It warmed my heart. I looked next to the photo, and in big letters it simply read,

“She believed she could, so she did.” 

I burst into tears. 

This whole time, I had been craving the validation of others, when all I needed was my own. I knew what I was capable of. I knew what I could do. All that mattered was if I believed in myself.

And I did! The voice was practically screaming at me by then. 

I thanked the universe for such a beautiful sign that gave me the confidence to pay the deposit the next day. 

(And big thanks to my girl Tori :’) you’ll never know how badly I needed that.)

The process of building/buying a home nearly killed me. No, like, I’m serious. It pushed me to my absolute limit. It was 9 months of stress and anxiety. It was honestly like being pregnant again.

It was so hard for me to get excited about the house. In the same way it was hard for me to get excited about having a baby. My

mind always goes straight to worst case scenario, and my ego is always bracing for heartache. I didn’t get excited about having a baby until he was in my arms. Until that point, I was convinced something bad would happen, keeping me from ever actually being a mother. The thing I desired most. 

This was how I felt about the house. Which can also explain, like my pregnancy, why I kept this journey a secret from all of you. I was terrified. I was constantly thinking something bad would happen, keeping me from ever actually living in this beautiful home. The thinI now desired most.

Why did I feel so undeserving of things working out for me?

That was one of the lessons I learned through this process. Why I feel so undeserving of my success, or my desires. 

It was the ultimate test of self worth, for me. Getting this house. I fought for this house. I worked tirelessly for this house. I mediated, wrote affirmations, and prayed every single damn day for this house. 

But it wasn’t until the day we moved in, that I finally felt worthy of it all. 

Like I said, this process pushed me to my breaking point. I felt tested in every single way. Very similar, to the way I was tested during the transformation of becoming a mother. I can see now, with a few months of perspective, how divine the timing was. How important it was for me to level up, to become the girl I needed to be to align with such a massive manifestation like this. It’s beautiful, even now. It’s beautiful. So much growth was made in those last few months preparing to move. 

And like the wild, traumatic, but beautiful transformation of becoming a mother - we moved into our house on January 7th. Exactly two years after I was life flighted to a hospital In Diabetic Keto acidosis, preparing for preterm labor. 

Exactly two years after my world was rocked and my life changed forever, here I was again, entering another brand new season of life. 

The moving day was chaotic. Cleaners were still finishing up, furniture was being moved in and out, etc. But after they all left, my family came over to see the big reveal. 

I walked them around our brand new house, seeing a lot of it for the first time with everyone else. I followed my mom into our closet, and she stopped to pause. She looked around, taking it all in.

I know my mom like the back of my hand, and even from turned around - I could tell she was about to cry. 

“Oh shit.” I thought. 

And just like that, she turned her face slightly and I could see tears rolling down. 

My first thought was, “why is she crying?” but suddenly, I felt a lump in my throat and I realized - for the first time…

That I did it. 

I got the house. 

I made it happen. 

She was proud of me.

I held it together in the closet with my mom, but after they all left, I lost it.

I sat in my bathtub - my gorgeous, perfect, incredible bathtub that I had spent the last year dreaming of - and I just cried. I cried because I felt relief. I cried because I was exhausted. But I mainly cried because I was so fucking proud of myself. 

“I deserve this” I told myself through tears. 

“I deserve this.”

She believed she could, so she did.

Ind