Everyone goes through the time of their life where it is about time to move out. Flee the nest, if you will. Whether it is your time at the age of 16, 26 or 66, it’s a significant and changing time.
I moved out around 2 years ago now. And although I wrote a post YEARS ago about it, my thoughts and opinions have most definitely changed.
And you know why? Because for some reason I find it harder now more than ever.
When I first moved out, I was so excited to be free and have no one to answer for and have my own flat and my own room and OMG MUM YOU CANT TELL ME WHAT TO DO ANYMORE.
But that excitement fades. Heck, it turns into a burning desire to just be looked after again. If you’re anything like me, you’ll be phoning your parents for everything.
Mum the fire alarm is going off, how do I turn it off?
Dad, where is the meter reading in my flat?
Mum, I accidentally put my jeans in the dryer, will they be okay?
I think you get the gist. It’s not that I am not independent, of course I am. Of course I know how to wash my own clothes and make my own dinner (toast counts as dinner) and of course I pay bills and rent.
But my point is that leaving home can be hard. And the longer I’m away, the harder I find it.
I have always been a bit of a home bird, and am best friends with my mum. So I guess it’s inevitable for me to miss it. I also think the fact that I have moved 3 hours away, across the country adds to that a little.
But moving home is a hard process. And I think that I have learnt that I am always going to miss it. When I am sick, I am always going to want to go home home. And when I’m home sick, well straight down the M6 I go.
But the best advice is to take every day as it comes, and always make sure to have a date in your diary when you’re next planning on visiting!
