McMansions

I realized that part of the reason why I was so unhappy going home is that some of my childhood goals and dreams have been crushed. They haven't necessarily been broken by a person or circumstance in particular. Rather, I came to the realization tonight that my dreams have changed significantly since I was a kid.

I remember, pretty distinctly in fact, how envious I was of one of the houses that my friend lived in. I just remember wanting to grow up and become successful enough to be able to buy a house like that. Houses like that, to me, were the signs of success that my family didn't have. I wanted all that stuff that goes in them too. The movie rooms, the huge yard, the enormous kitchen with an island, and the huge staircase. I thought those were all the things that you got and earned when you were really successful.

I don't think of that as success anymore. It seems like everyone has money and everyone could buy things. Money doesn't buy happiness. I'm so overwhelmed now by how big the houses are. They're enormous. So large that they almost own you - you don't own them. My parents had moved into their house almost a month before I was there - and it still felt empty. Just large and empty.

I think that is what I'm really afraid of. The emptiness. I would rather have a small something of my own rather than a big something that belongs to everyone. I want to have earned my small piece - if nothing else. I want my own dust pile (LM Montgomery book reference - I loved those books as a kid).