For Mama and Daddy, who didn't let me sink when I was shipwrecked.

When I turned 18 years old, I desired one thing and one thing only. Independence. For my entire childhood and adolescence, I had been held back by rules and by reins that my parents and all of the other authority figures in my life had imposed on me. I know everything, so why shouldn't I decide the course that my own life takes?

Well, I sure as hell got it.

By 21, I was a mess. Not in the "man-my-life-is-so-stressful I really hope this pays off in the future" kind of way. No, more of the "I drank-my-entire-bank-account-so-that-there-are-only-cobwebs-left-hey-I-wonder-if-you-can-drink-cobwebs" kind of way. I don't know if credit card companies can eat you, but mine were looking at me like a juicy steak dinner.

So I made a choice. One tearful discussion with my mother later, I moved back in with my mom and dad, and it was the smartest decision that I had made since I was 18.

I've always been close with my mom and dad. We've never really been a family for secrets or passive aggression. We don't hide things from each other. When I moved back into their house, there were a lot of skeletons that needed to be pulled out of my closet. I was a borderline alcoholic, a terrible money manager, a dedicated skirt chaser, none of which are things that I was taught to be growing up. Moving back in with my parents gave me the chance to look at those things in the face, and with the accountability of someone else, mold them into what I wanted to be.

I got a chance that a lot of people don't get it. I saw the adult that I've grown up to be, and I didn't like it. The grace of my parents gave me the opportunity to change it for the better. They helped me manage my money. They gave me advice on how to be a functional adult. They guided me on rekindling friendships that I had destroyed. They demanded my vigilance towards my own well-being.

More importantly, moving back in with my parents taught me to love my parents all over again. I had never stopped loving them, but I had stopped expressing it. In the past six months, we've made more memories than I can remember having made in the previous five years. Family parties, game nights, football games, religious conversations, political debates, you name it, we've had it.

In about a month, I'll be signing a lease and moving out of my parents' house again. The real difference between me now and then isn't my credit score. It isn't the friendships I've regained. The difference is that I'm six months richer in the kind of love that stays awake until four in the morning with you because it feels like it has something that it can teach you. I'm six months more dedicated to my work ethic and to my own ethics in general. I'm six months more sure that every next step isn't going to land me in quicksand. I'm six months more of a man.

This is my love letter to mom and dad. Thank you for everything.

Love always,

Jacob