Handing Over the Keys
Saying goodbye to the house that gave me my fresh start.
This coming week is heavy with a very specific kind of bittersweetness. On July 15th, I will officially sign the papers, hand over the keys, and close on the sale of my house.
Looking at the calendar recently, the timeline hit me: July 15, 2026. It is almost exactly three years to the day from when I first walked into that home on July 14, 2023.
By the time that day arrived, I had been house hunting for months. It was exhausting. After being outbid and rejected on two separate offers, I finally hit a wall. I was tired of the emotional rollercoaster, so I stopped telling people when I was going to look at homes. No one in my life knew that morning that I was even going to see the house. No one knew I put an offer in. I just went out on my own, walked through the front door, and felt an immediate, undeniable wave of this is right.
I put an offer in, and it was accepted just hours later. Third time was a charm.
Three Years: A Perfect, Self-Contained Cycle
When I bought that house, it was the first time I had ever purchased a home entirely on my own. I knew it was a transition home. I didn’t know if I’d be there forever or just for a season, but I knew I needed to start all over again. At 40 years old, I wanted stability, and I wanted equity. I deliberately chose to buy instead of rent to build something for my future, a decision I definitely questioned and laughed about later when the realities of solo homeownership and maintenance kicked in!
But more than financial equity, that house gave me emotional equity. It was my nest, my safe harbor, and a place where I finally had total control over my environment again. I needed that space to heal, to breathe, and to remember who I was.
I thought I was moving in just to focus on my new solo space. But as it turns out, God had a completely different timeline in mind.
Unpacking Boxes, Unpacking Us
Once the keys were in my hand, I was ready to just focus on my own nest.
Before finding the house, my therapist and my best friends had heavily encouraged me to get back out there. So, I did. I downloaded Hinge and Bumble and spent months doing the modern dating dance. I met some nice guys, but none of them were for me. It was draining, and by the time moving day arrived, I was completely over it. I was ready to delete the apps, close the door on dating, and put all my energy into my new space.
In fact, I was so done looking that I fully intended to delete Hinge. But I am notoriously terrible at remembering to cancel subscriptions, a trait Dave still laughs about to this day. Because I forgot to cancel, my profile stayed active.
God clearly had other plans. Within a single week of closing and moving into my home, I met Dave on the app, and the rest is history.
The months that followed were a beautiful, chaotic blur. I was literally unpacking the physical boxes of my new life while simultaneously unpacking a brand-new relationship in that exact same space. It was my place and my space. It held my home office and gave me control over my environment again, yet it seamlessly became a place where we could relax and get to know each other.
For over a year, that house was my safe harbor. It did exactly what a transition home is supposed to do by giving me a firm foundation to stand on while I opened my heart back up to the world.
The Transition and The Investment
After more than a year together, it was time for the next chapter. I made the decision to move into his home with him and his kids, which meant beginning the emotional process of detaching from my own place.
But my house wasn’t done bringing us together just yet. Dave and I, along with the incredible help of family and friends, decided to remodel it before putting it on the market. We spent months transforming the attic into a beautiful bedroom and completely overhauling the kitchen.
It wasn’t just manual labor; it was a massive bonding experience for us. We were investing into the house, pouring our time and hard work into a space that had already given me so much. It felt like the perfect way to honor the home by leaving it better than we found it.
Then came the process of getting it on the market. The showings, the waiting, and finally, the accepted offer.
Now, here we are. On July 15th, the keys go to a new owner. It is exciting to see a new chapter begin for someone else in that space, but it is undeniably bittersweet. That house was the bridge to my new life, and as I sign the final papers this week, I am leaving it with a heart full of gratitude for the three years it protected me, changed me, and led me home.
To see the full visual transformation of the house, check out my deep dive blog post on the attic and kitchen remodel over at leahhaslage.com.
If you would like to see me cry at the final walkthrough, check out my Instagram post @ClevelandLeah
Sounds like it was indeed the perfect spot for you! Good luck in all the things that are next!
Congratulations on the move. The fun has just begun.