I sold my trailer.
Wait, Jen, what was that?
I SOLD MY TRAILER. IT IS GONE. IT IS NOT IN MY DRIVEWAY. I PARKED IN MY OWN DRIVEWAY FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE I LIVED IN BILLINGS.
I took it to the RV sales lot today, and instead of consigning it, they decided to just buy it. I don’t have my $$ until the title arrives from wherever it needs to arrive from (is it in Oregon or Montana? I don’t really know…), but the Bill of Sale is signed, baby. I was talking to the owner, who reminded me of my Grandpa George. I explained that it’s just me, a single woman by myself, an elementary school teacher, and a recent breast cancer survivor. I literally looked at him and directly said, “I could use a favor and some good news.”
So he did one, and agreed to just buy it. I have no doubt it will barely stay on his lot. Memorial Day weekend this sucker is gonna disappear. (Metra RV, should you be lookin’.)
YES, this is very big news.
First of all, a moment of silence to honor that the trailer was my lifeboat when I needed it. It housed me when I needed to extricate myself from a bad relationship. Later it provided me a bathroom when I needed to take Lucy’s bathroom all the way down to the studs and the bugs and the rot and rebuild…taking 3 solid months of work well into the snowy season.
I feel as if the most giant albatross has been lifted from my shoulders. I feel peace and relief.
Naturally this has happened for me right before the Blood Moon Eclipse and full moon in Sagittarius. The divine has a deep sense of humor in my life. All personal life movements occur during major universal shifts.
So this happened. It is the end of an era. It is the saying goodbye to a time that I had very little agency in my own life and in my own choices. When this trailer arrived in my life, I was in a relationship that shook me down to my roots and tore me apart. I was pulled from all the people that were most important to me, which is what happens in a toxic relationship.
As the trailer goes I am experiencing love in a completely different way. I am healing a grieving heart, but this time from a relationship that gave me joy, safety and security.
And yet, it still ended.
I am still here, living alone. But not alone.
A 6,000 pound weight has left the building and for this, and all it represents, I am deeply grateful. I hope it makes someone else’s dreams come true. The significant amount of money I lost on this deal is almost irrelevant to me. The emotional security I gain seeing it go brings me a deep sense of peace.
Peace, it turns out, is not fleeting.