Leaving Shoreditch - why moving can be emotional

It feels like the end of an era; after some 17 years, I have sold my flat in Shoreditch.  It has been a bit of a long process (1.5 years on the market!), and I was getting a bit nervous at the end, but it’s sold, the mortgage has been paid back, and now we are starting to look for a new place. Relieved but also far more emotional than I would have thought, so now it really is After Shoreditch (ha, do you like what I did there).

I suppose this happens every day, so is it worth a post. Well, for me, personally, it is a huge thing; for our family, it matters, and I guess there are some interesting specifics.

So maybe I’ll start with a bit of history. I brought the flat when I was 25; I had been working for 4 years, having finished a master's. It was time to grow up and get my own place. At the time, a nice sized one bedroom ex-council flat between Shoreditch and Columbia Road seemed perfect, and in many ways, it was.  What is weird is I’d only been to Shoreditch three times before buying the flat, and it was the only property I looked at. Just recently, I came to regret not looking around more, getting a bigger place or somewhere that isn’t ex-council. But really, if that is the worst thing you do in your 20s, then you are probably doing okay, and I need to remember it was a great place to live for 17 years.

My family didn’t own a house until I was well into my 20s; we lived in pretty grim Council housing in North West London. So I think having a place of my own was very important emotionally, even if, oddly it was a Council place.

The flat itself was nice if pretty run down, a nice size with a super balcony that for a while had an amazing view, until the site next door was built.  The first week I had a huge party, friends found the flat easily as they could hear the music from Shoreditch High Street.