When I turned 18, I was still pretty content with staying at home. In fact I picked a college that was not too far away. I was perfectly fine with coming home each break and relying on my parents to take care of me. Actually I came home probably once a month, just because I wanted just that, to be taken care of. It did not occur to me to get out on my own while being at college until junior year when all of my friends were doing that.
The summer before junior year I thought about finding an apartment near my college campus, like most of my friends were doing. Living in the dorms becomes not as exciting after a while, and you just want to have your own space. Getting my own place though required a lot of work for me, like getting my license and getting a job. I did not work very hard at those things, so getting my own place did not happen. Dorm life continued my senior year as well, even when I had only 2 classes on campus and would have been better off living off campus near the school I was student teaching at. But that required work too, work I for whatever reason was not interested in doing.
Graduation
held the same story, I just was not interested in getting out on my own. Not
that I wanted to be the type of person who lives in their parents’ basement
forever, I just did not think moving out was the best option for me. So I
stayed home, and was productive somewhat, but being home with not many
responsibilities really does a number on how old and mature you feel.
Maybe
I liked not having responsibility. Or maybe I was just lazy or even scared. Maybe
it had to do with my parents not really encouraging me to get out. Or maybe it
was my student loans. Whatever it was, moving out just was not on my mind. And
neither was really acting like an adult.
It
was not until my boyfriend moved out of his parents’ house that I realized it
is time for me to get out too. A tough conversation we had one night before he
left made me realize I was not doing anything with myself, and that I needed to
grow up and get going, somehow, some way. I had gotten way too content with my
life of hanging out in front of the TV in my room, letting my parents take care
of everything. The only bill I paid was my student loans, which I did with my
parents’ money. I got driven everywhere and did not have to pay for much of
anything. I shoved things in mom’s shopping cart at the store, got away with
not doing any chores, and did not have a job. Pretty good sounding life huh?
Like I said, I was not really living like an adult or living very maturely.
That
tough conversation made me think about finally getting a license and working
hard at getting a job, and eventually moving out. I could not move out when he
was doing it, but I knew I could soon. It was the long distance relationship
thing though that really sealed the deal of where and when I was moving.
So
here I am today, budgeting, staring at moving boxes, and pinning apartment
decoration ideas because it is time for me to move. My parents have been
wonderful in taking care of me all of these years, but I know that staying with
them another year is not the right thing for me. I am becoming stagnant water
as I am sitting here. I am not growing very much in my relationship with God, or
growing towards becoming a productive adult member of society, or growing in
the effort I put in my relationship because this home breeds contentment, not
growth.
So
I am ready and excited to move out, to have my own place, to live the way that
I think God is asking me to live. I know it will be a challenge, but I am ready
to take that leap, and leap I will in one month!
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