The first time I moved away from home would be moving to college. I was so excited to make the move, I had planned out my entire dorm room before even getting home from my college tour.
During the summer prior to leaving for school, I accumulated my things, made quilts for my roommate and myself, and practically had myself packed a week before leaving. We loaded everything into the Matlin’s Furniture truck (think Uhaul truck) and made our way to Eau Claire.
Even though I wasn’t living totally on my own, I still had the sense of freedom. I was able to do what I wanted when I wanted. If I wanted to eat an entire cheesecake while watching the Oprah episode where she hauled out a load of fat in a wagon, I could (and I did!) If I wanted to eat Lucky Charms for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, I could (and I did!) If I wanted to go out to a party, I didn’t have to ask permission. It was FREEDOM!
College was just a jump start to the concept of leaving home. Even though it was truly the first time I left home, I wasn’t solely responsible for my life. Mom and dad were there to pay for things and for me to go home when I wanted/needed. I truly left home after I graduated college and became engaged.
At that point in my life, I had gotten a job at ExecuTrain, a computer training facility for adults. Once I had that job, I also got my first apartment with my finance. That was when I felt like my adult life had begun. It was supposed to be just my apartment from April 1993 to August 1993, but he basically moved in with me.
I was now in charge of not only my life but taking care of our “home”. Turns out, I was back to having to check in with someone else before doing something, just like living at home. What do you want for dinner? Instead of eating what I wanted. What do you want to do tonight? Instead of doing whatever I wanted. Thinking back, it makes me long to go back to college again.