It happened. My application to rent a house has been rejected because I am on housing benefits, because I am an unemployed single mum.
I don’t blame the landlord. He can’t get insurance to take me as a tenant because I am high risk. I am likely to trash the house, or use it as a drug den, or withhold rent. The fact I am actually likely to fall asleep on the sofa watching Mr Bloom and maybe spill coffee grounds on the floor at 5am is irrelevant. As is the fact I am only an unemployed, single mum because my husband walked out with no notice, somewhat ruining the “housewife and stay at home mum” status. All that matters is unemployed, single mum.
I am heartbroken to be honest, I would have loved that house. I would have treated it with love and respect, raised my daughter to be a decent and responsible human being there, and started a new life. I would have grown vegetables in the garden, and had barbecues on the patio. I would have found work and used the money to improve our future. I would have made that empty house into a beautiful home.
But I am not giving up. I am not taking rejection and lying down with it. I am continuing to look for a home and I am continuing to look for work. I will be accepted and I will make Miss Rose a life she deserves.
One rejection down. How many to go? Who knows. Probably loads. But that’s okay, because you don’t get many people more stubborn and determined than me. It hurts, but not enough to stop me trying again.