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It was 9 years ago today that I signed on the line and bought my first home. Who'd have thought that I'd still be here? Definitely not me. I thought I'd stay maybe three or four years and then get a house with my future husband, or maybe even move to a new city. Fast forward those couple of years, and the housing market tanks, there's no husband to speak of, and I can't commit to a permanent move. So here I am, feeling a little trapped, but still in love with my house. Condo life isn't for everyone, and some days, it's not for me. My neighbors make me crazy, but without them I'd miss all the fighting, motorcycles and bouncing basketballs.

My condo is still a work in progress, and I figure once it's done, I'll just redo it. My upstairs bath is half done, and I need to put tile in the kitchen and laundry room, and then I'm out of projects. Well, major projects at least. There's still spackle that needs sanded off, walls that need paint touch ups and trim to be installed. One of these days I'll get around to my house to-do list.

The girl that bought this house is so different from the one I see in the mirror today, but she'll always be my naive, innocent and hopeful self. That girl envisioned a life centered around making her hopes and dreams come true and had to learn that life doesn't always follow your plans, and is unpredictable at best. It was a cruel lesson that started the very next day with a cancer diagnosis.

So this condo has meant more to me than I ever thought a house could. It's my refuge from the outside world, but also the place where I've healed and found ways to make new dreams come true. Selling it one day will be difficult since I'm so emotionally attached, but it's inevitable. I can't stay forever. This condo has been the one constant in my life, other than my family, and I'm so grateful to the girl I once was that thought buying a condo was a good idea.

Nine years, while not forever, is still a victory in so many ways.