What are Room to Move contest winners doing now? Did they get the cash-flow necessary to get out on their own? And what did they say to convince America that they were the most freedom-worthy entry?
2nd Annual Room to Move Contest – Grand Prize Winner
Valerie, 22
Tracy, CA
They say acknowledgment is the first step towards recovery. “Hello, my name is Valerie, I’m an employed, semi-broke, 22 year old woman and I still share a room with my little sister.” There. No, I really don’t feel any better. Fresh out of college, moving back in with the parents sounded like a good idea – help me save money, bit of the pampering that dorm life didn’t provide. But my mother won’t let me take water or food to my bedroom, my father keeps counting down the astronomical days till I retire, the only place to park my car is under the tree where all the leaky birds live, and if my moody teenage sister is at her computer, and she always is, I can’t get to my bed.
My room is roughly the size of a minivan. Minivans at least have air-conditioning. My room is the hottest in the house, the top bunk traps all of the air and – oh, did I forget to mention that I don’t just share a room, but a bunk bed? And every morning I get woken up as SHE hops on my mattress on her way to the floor? I might as well be Chicken Little with the number of heavy books, dirty clothes, and gross things that fall from above.
But the biggest problem is that I’m a writer. Who can write the great American novel while living with their parents? And writing is difficult when your desk is practically in your closet, it doubles as a drawer, and you can’t quite pull a chair up to it. Then there’s also that pesky privacy problem, people looking over your shoulder, asking how it’s going. If I needed that kind of pressure, I’d live with my mother. Oh wait, I do.
What is Valerie up to now?
The first thing to go was the bunk bed, in pieces, onto the front lawn. Next were the piles of paper. Always threatening to topple over, I let them, right into my suitcase. I was moving on out! Winning the Apartments.com contest was such a blessing. No 23 year old should be sharing a bathroom with a teenager, let alone a bedroom. I shared a bed – need I say more? But you recognized my dire situation, my quiet desperation, and bailed me out. I thank you for it.
Now I have my own apartment that I’m not required to clean everyday, a carport to protect my baby Honda from any leaky birds, a couch any twenty-something would be happy to spend a few days lazing away on, and a desk nowhere near my family’s prying eyes. Granted, it isn’t all flowers and sunshine. If something breaks, my dad’s not here to fix it. If I don’t feel like cooking, my mom isn’t around to whip me up some pancakes. And I don’t have any siblings around to fight with over who gets the remote control. No, I take that back, that I don’t miss.
But the pros, they outweigh the cons. Sure, now I have to pay rent but I can also leave my dishes in the sink. I have to pay for my own electricity, but I can listen to music at any volume and no one’s around to complain if I want to watch monster movies until all hours of the night. And you know, you don’t feel as bad wasting hours surfing the net if you’re paying for it yourself. Can’t afford to live the fine life like me? Enter the contest, it’s worth it. Heck, if a girl from the valley can win, anything can happen.
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