By Heidi F. Stepzinski, as told to Denise K. James
Some names have been changed.
In early 2004, when I was 24 and living with a nightmare of a roommate, I picked up a copy of Apartment Finder (the print version of what is now apartmentfinder.com) and flipped through the pages just to see what was out there. A place called Harbor Pointe Apartments caught my eye. My needs were fairly simple – something that allowed for dogs and a short commute to downtown Charleston – and Harbor Pointe seemed to fit. So I called them, booked the tour, and said I’d take a two-bedroom.
“You’re moving during TAX season?” asked one colleague when I shared my plans. “That’s crazy!”
Actually, more than one person said it, but I ignored them all. I had a feeling Harbor Pointe was my place.
And it was time for me to have some better luck. Things had been a mess since graduating two years before. I’d taken a position with a big accounting firm, only to be laid off when the Enron story broke. Out of a job and with zero plans, I decided to get a master’s in accounting. Then, after living downtown in a converted old house for a year, dealing with mold and bad parking, I got saddled with the nightmare roommate. Now, at last, things were looking up.
Two months later, I moved into Harbor Pointe along with Madison, my border collie-beagle mix. A college friend would be joining as my roommate that August. I’d lived with her before, in the dorms, so I knew we would be a good match. The place had two decent-sized bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and a bonus sunroom. We’d have to share the bathroom, but so what? We did it in the dorms and could do it again. Plus, my room had a separate vanity and enough closet space for my collection of high heels.
My friend, Dee, was happy to take the second bedroom, and I was happy to show her around. Neither of us were culinarily gifted at the time, so we’d go out to Wild Wing Café, the Kickin’ Chicken, or any number of casual restaurants and bars. We had everything we needed right at our fingertips – grocery stores within walking distance, in-house entertainment (Sex and the City DVDs and fashion magazines), a cute maintenance man (he particularly liked Dee) and, most importantly, youth on our side.
It was all so beautiful that I should have thought harder when I decided to move in with my boyfriend rather than signing another lease. Dee and I parted ways with our beloved Harbor Pointe, and I had no idea I’d one day be back.
**
In your 20s, time seems to go at a normal speed. One year contains so many opportunities, romances, and change. But as you get older, things can get humdrum, and before you know it, you’re in your 40s and married to an asshole. Such was the case when I decided Sam (yes, the same boyfriend from 20 years prior) and I should finally call it quits. We’d had two children, a handful of pets, multiple homes, and not one speck of love between us as far as I could tell, at least not real love. Sam was incredibly self-centered, which I’d ignored for as long as I could. It was time to go my own way.
Unfortunately, going my way in Charleston – where I would need to remain for the sake of the kids – was proving quite expensive. I wanted a three-bedroom apartment so my oldest would have a place to stay between college semesters. But after examining prices, I decided a two bedroom would have to suffice.
I should note here that I’m a CPA and earn a decent income. But the prices in the Charleston metro are simply absurd. Even after dialing back to a two-bedroom apartment search, I couldn’t find anything that wasn’t cramped. Then, one day, I noticed a sign for The Cooper.
That’s Harbor Pointe! I thought to myself. I guess they changed the name.
Well, that’s not all they changed. After booking a tour on my phone (no such thing as phone numbers listed in Apartment Finder), I found that the apartments I’d lived in so long ago had gone through a major facelift. The old brown steps between floors were replaced with gleaming new stairways; the kitchen boasted stainless steel appliances; the floors were hardwood. Even the clubhouse and the swimming pool, which Dee and I rarely used back in the day, were being updated.
Though the price was more than double what we paid two decades ago, a cool $1,970 a month, I barely batted an eyelash. With the updates, it was up to my current, not 20-something, standards, and the closets and the big sunroom still came with the space. It was by far the best deal I discovered on my post-age-40 apartment search – and, even better, it felt familiar. It felt like coming home.
Of course it’ll always be Harbor Pointe to me, and to Dee, who has already visited. Since moving back into The Cooper, I have to admit life feels the way it should. Yes, it was scary at first; this is the first time I’ve lived alone as an adult with no roommate and no boyfriend or husband. But I feel empowered. It’s fantastic to order furniture I actually like and put it together myself! If I’m feeling nostalgic, I can even look out the window and see the apartment Dee and I lived in two decades ago – kind of the way I can see all the turning points of my life in my mind.
I was obviously a lot younger when I last lived here, and most of the people living around me are in their 20s, the age Dee and I were. Now I watch my young neighbors, and I understand that we can’t really hang out; we have nothing in common. But, interestingly, I don’t quite feel like I’m 45, despite all that. I feel timeless.
Even better, I’m finding it easier to dismiss toxic people from my life. In addition to Sam, I’ve cut ties with unappreciative clients, fake friends, anyone who doesn’t jive with me. It’s just not worth it. I’m starting new, and it’s time to say “see ya” to everyone who dragged me down.
There’s definitely part of me that thinks, Well, now that you can stand on your own two feet, it’s time to leave Charleston, like you planned to do after finishing graduate school all those years ago. Charleston is very different now. There’s sadly no more Wild Wing Café, the shopping options have changed, the traffic is significantly worse, and the people aren’t as friendly.
But that’s all exterior stuff. I don’t like moving, and I don’t have a reason to move. I think this was all meant to be. When I started looking for a place to start my new life, I definitely didn’t picture coming back to Harbor Pointe. But it was one of those moments when the universe stepped in and I ended up where I’m supposed to be. Again.