Living the Life: Moving out of parents’ house a chore

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Moving out on your own is a lot of freaking work.

I’ve packed my belongings and moved my life 8,187 miles away to inhabit a different country for five months in a matter of a couple days—piece of cake.

But moving my belongings from my own room to my new room, eight miles down the road, has literally taken my whole life, or so it seems. 

How is it that it was easier to move across the world, away from all of my friends, all of my family, everything and everybody I love? But to move across town leaves me with a new found sense of home-sickness that I never anticipated to have?

Don’t get me wrong; two weeks on my own has been great. I come and go as I please, my fridge is always full of the food I want to eat, my friends are welcome at all hours of the day, and I am a few short minutes from work, school and the gym. It’s the perfect set-up really, and not having to pay rent because its family-owned isn’t too shabby either.

But I’m here to tell you the sweet setup didn’t stop me from shedding a few little girl tears when I pulled out of the driveway for good–car packed to the brim with boxes of my childhood belongings. 

Growing up, I was always opposed to moving out in St. George. I just didn’t see the point of living outside of my house, where everything is taken care of for me, to move to some small, poorly decorated apartment with a few friends who probably don’t cook as well as my mom. I fought it for years.

When I moved out of the country for a few months, I realized the good that comes with living on your own. Sure you can develop into a functional adult living at home and having your meals prepared for you every night—well, for the most part. But there is something about doing it on your own—grocery shopping, bill paying, cleaning, cooking, and house decorating—that really makes you feel like a bona fide adult. 

The fact is, moving out is hard to do. It’s hard to leave the comforts of home and family to experience things on your own. And living with roommates—that’s a different story entirely. But by putting yourself out there in the real world, removing yourself from your comfort zone, and adding just a few extra responsibilities to your plate I think you might just find yourself growing into an adult, capable of making big kid decisions like choosing dishes.

And hey, it’s OK to go home every now and then for mom’s dinner or when you’re not feeling well and just want mom and dad to take care of you. I won’t tell anyone—after all, we can’t all grow up overnight, right?