I haven’t had a room to call my own in seven years, and I don’t mind. I just do whatever I have to do in order to stay in San Francisco. The past 7,555 days of my sharing-room saga will continue as long as the rent stays high as the sky. Until then, here’s what I’ve taken away from the past couple of years.
While growing up in an above-average-size house in Orange County, I shared a room with my brother. Living with a sibling is not a walk through the park—one time my brother locked himself in the lockers in our room playing hide-and-seek. Anyway, I digress. Sharing a room was pretty normal for me. And I chose to continue to do so because I decided to move to one of the most expensive cities in the country. Smart? No. Ambitious? Yes.
One morning, I woke up to my roommate staring at my face. I was freaking out.
Yes, privacy goes out the window. You can’t really have sex with someone else in the room. That’s just weird, unless you’re into that kind of thing. In one of the places where I lived, my roommate would constantly lock me out of the room so he could have “alone” time with his girlfriend. It would be at weird times of the day, like 2:00 in the afternoon, which made it more annoying. Also, I couldn’t get any of my stuff, so I was stuck in the living room. More often than not, you have plan that adult stuff ahead of time. Moral of the story: your sex life is abysmal when you share a room with someone.
Different personalities and attitudes are often hard to adjust to. Even weird quirks like snoring or sleepwalking. During my senior year in college, my friends and I found a small in-law unit in the Sunset. Three of us shared a room—yes, all of us. Our beds were close to each other. It was like Will & Grace, but in one room. One morning, I woke up to my roommate staring at my face. I freaked out. Turns out he was sleeping with his eyes open. I’m not saying I don’t have quirks (like sleeping with my mouth open), but these are little annoyances that you force yourself to adjust to. It’s kind of like being married but not actually married—just the living-together part.
Money is a big reason why I do this. Rent is not necessarily the cheapest in SF. Just kidding—it’s expensive as hell. My thought process is this: Why am I going to work my ass off for my own room when I’m just going to sleep there, and I can save some money and use it for other things? It’s legitimate. With the money that I am saving, I get to enjoy what the city has to offer. I can enjoy bottomless mimosas on Sundays or join a glow-in-the-dark kickball league (yes, that is a thing, and I highly recommend it).
Living with someone goes one of two ways: you create an enemy or a really good friend.
I don’t want to stress too much about having my own place and paying some ridiculous amount for it. In return, I get to create new experiences for myself, make new friends, try new things, eat amazing food and just immerse myself in the city. San Francisco has so much to offer, and I want to take full advantage of it. I think this is the most important trade-off for me. I get a little wiggle room with my barista budget to get out there and just enjoy myself. Enough with the money part. Let’s get down to the nitty gritty.
Respect, respect, respect. Wait, let me add one more: respect. Both of us are sharing a room. This is one of the reasons why I have managed to do this for a long time. I am respectful of people and their personal belongings. And I expect the same in return. In some of the places where I lived, I was not treated that way. On some nights, I would go to sleep pretty early. One of my former roommates—let’s call him Tim—was a night owl who never slept. On multiple occasions, he would come rushing into the room and turn on the light. Not only that, but he would ruffle through his stuff or even clean at 1:00 in the morning. I was so pissed, I almost threw Tim and his bed out the window. This is where the respect part comes into play.
Living with someone goes one of two ways: you create an enemy or a really good friend. Yes, I know—it’s super-corny But something about living with someone for so long makes you develop a certain type of intimacy. You really get to know someone on a different level, and your connection goes beyond the surface. You begin to peel those layers like an onion. You may even cry. All of this encompasses the positive part of living with someone else. Oh my God, it’s a circle of life. Some say I have separation anxiety. Who knows? But I like being surrounded by friends.
All in all, sharing a room with somone fits my lifestyle and what I want do. It gives me the opportunity to enjoy the place I live in. It will get weirder as I get older, but I’ll deal with that when it comes. For now, I’m more than happy to share a room with someone. I’ve been here for the past seven years, and I don’t plan on moving anytime soon.
Hey! The Bold Italic recently launched a podcast, This Is Your Life in Silicon Valley. Check out the full season or listen to the episode below featuring Alexia Tsotsis, former coeditor of TechCrunch. More coming soon, so stay tuned!
