Moving in together

There comes a point in every relationship when it's time to stop lugging your worldly possessions (or at least your hairdryer, make-up bag and a fresh set of knickers) between your man's flat and your own. It'll be bliss, won't it? Well, yes and no.

By Catherine Jarvie

When my space becomes our space
It sounds romantic - you imagine all those extra hours you'll be able to spend together, all the fun you'll have 'nesting', preparing a home that reflects your joint tastes on your joint journey into the future. But moving in together can be a shock to any couple. It doesn't matter how many nights you've shared together, you are, up until that point, still ostensibly guests in one another's homes. Adjusting to someone else's routine when you're in their house is one thing, but when that house also becomes yours, chances are you're going to expect a little more domestic clout.

If you've never before complained about the leftover curry boxes and furring glasses at the side of your boyfriend's bed, he might be a little taken aback when you begin. That you didn't care what he got up to in his own home, but have certain standards of hygiene that you'd like to keep in your own, might seem reasonable to the casual observer, but to the delicate balance of the newly shacked-up it can prove unsettling.

The old argument about cohabiters arguing over how to squeeze the toothpaste may be a cliché, but clichés exist because they share a basic truth. The tube of toothpaste (or loo seat, or how you fold the towels) becomes a symbol, not just of differences, but of territories.

The psychology of movement
I have a friend who rearranged the furniture and replaced her boyfriend's existing sofa covers and pillows as a way to establish her 'mark' upon what had previously been his flat. He, upset that he hadn't been consulted, shifted everything back. The resulting stand-off lasted nearly a week - she feeling unwanted, he invaded - before they finally talked about what was going on. A couple of joint decorating decisions and one quick trip to Ikea later had them both feeling that they were embarking on something new together.

Redefining your environment can be difficult, psychologically as well as physically. By moving in you have burnt your domiciliary bridges; there is no longer a bolthole for each of you to escape to, no longer 'your' space, only 'ours'. At best that can be awkward, at worst, terrifying. Independence and autonomy are highly prized and hard won in today's social environment. To surrender that, no matter how willingly, can leave you feeling vulnerable.

Moving in together can be a shock. It doesn't matter how many nights you've shared together, you are, up until that point, still ostensibly guests in one another's homes

Attachment
Setting up a new home together offsets some of this - at least it gives you the chance to start on an even domestic footing. But moving into one partner's existing home is more difficult. It's not enough to clear out a drawer or two - you really need to feel that this place is somewhere you can both call home now.

Live-in romance
Hands up who thinks that by setting up home together you're about to embark upon a never-ending rollercoaster of in-house romance? I hate to burst your bubble, but there's nothing to put the cork in your sexual desire than unduly close proximity to a loved one (and all of his - and your - less than swoon-inducing habits involving toenail clippings and depilatory creams) and, paradoxically, the alleged promise of sex on tap.

While familiarity doesn't always breed contempt, it can certainly open the doorway to complacency. There's much to be said for having someone you love to come home to, but it's important to remember that you moved in with your lover, not a flatmate; you're sharing your love, not just the bills.

We do more than merely live in our homes; we love, laugh and cry in them. To open that up completely to someone else - to not only see him warts 'n' all but to let him see us that way too - can seem immeasurably difficult. But having someone to come home to, someone to share the minutiae of your life - from bad days at work to picking over the latest horrors installed in the Big Brother house - can be immensely rewarding. And it's that little fact that you need to remember as you wearily replace the loo seat into its horizontal position for what feels like the 1,001st time in a week.