Ashley Mashley

Most girls are daddy’s girls. I, on the other hand, I’m a mommy’s girl. My parents divorced when I was very young, around the age of 2 and they both remarried in the years after. Needless to say, I was mostly with my mom; she had full custody. I only saw my dad about 4 days out of the month. My mom was always there for me through the thick and thin. I could count on her to be there for me in any situation. I’m even one of those very few people that can talk to their mother about sex. (But, please, please, I don’t want to hear about her personal life like that–EW!)

I lived with my mom my whole life minus the past 7 months. Beginning with the house in Westbury that I don’t remember, since I was a baby. Then to several apartments in Sharpstown where the dining area was my makeshift bedroom. My mom was a single mother just trying to make rent, so we had to make do with what we had. My favorite was when she had a roommate because the dining area was separate and no one ever walked through there. I think it only lasted a year though.

When I was a teenager, we moved into a house in the same area. We includes me, my mom and my stepdad. It was a nice house and I had my own room for once. I was extremely happy. All my boxes were packed along the walls and I rolled in my chair across the room. Back and forth, over and over. I was the happiest girl on earth that day. I moved in there with my small day bed and bright purple sheets. I had sleepovers and parties there as a teenager. As a young adult in college, I grew out of my day bed and moved into a nice, queen sized bed. I had so many transformations while I lived in that house.

But I graduated from college and realized it was time for me to be an adult and move out from the parental’s house. Time for me to be an individual.

I began the search for an apartment and quickly realized there was no way in hell I’d be able to move out on my own. I made a few calls and at that time, Melissa, a friend of the family and whom I now lovingly call my sister, was looking for a place to live as well. I scoured all of Houston for our apartment options. We looked at a few large apartment complexes inside the loop; there was so much traffic and almost no parking spaces. But we kept our options open and kept hunting.

I started searching HAR.com and it really wowed me with all the different leasing options available. We made appointments to see six various properties. We fell in love–with separate apartments! She loved the one in the Medical Center, while I adored the one in the Heights. I did a little research on the areas, landlords, etc. and ultimately we decided the Med Center was the way to go.

Moving, it was an experience. Which is a nice way of saying it was a pain in the butt! I packed up all 24 years of my life in boxes and loaded them in my car. My furniture was taken apart and loaded into the empty apartment by uncles and stepdad. I was grateful for all the help. Even a cousin that I was recently reunited with took the reins and started packing my clothes for me.

I will say that I’m thankful that my sister picked this apartment. It’s wonderful. It’s in a quiet neighborhood but still in a central location. It’s a mystery how we got such a deal. And living “on my own” has been great. Sure, we’ve struggled a bit with bills and such, especially in the beginning when we had to pay all the deposits and we were both in the process of switching jobs. But being able to stay out till 6 in the morning and having whoever I want spend the night makes it all worthwhile. It’s an experience and I’m still learning what life is all about.