I used to think that freedom was going off to college and being permitted to do what I want when I want, that leaving home is leaving the past of bitter memories behind. I thought freedom was this almighty feeling I’d finally be granted once leaving the place I had grown up in.

Freedom is missing what I never thought I would miss. I was wrong. I am admitting to my prideful self: I miss being home.

Although, don't get me wrong, being away from home is the most fun I’ve had in my short span of 19 years of life. I love every minute being away. The friends I’ve made, the new life I’ve created for myself, it's all wonderful. It offers me endless possibilities. Being independent in a city I’ve never known has an immense amounts of perks. There are countless new memories and stories I’ve had the opportunity of making. I am now able to surround myself with a new culture of people and places in a never ending adventure.

Creating a life for yourself that your parents didn't instruct you on becomes exhausting. It begins to take a toll on you. Having to learn things the hard way is exhausting. It becomes draining when your head hits the pillow at night.

You don’t realize it until after a day of tests you spent all week studying for, only to find out that none of what you studied was even on those tests. You don’t realize it until you’re walking back to your temporary home on campus, headphones in, passing by faces you’ve never seen before, only seeing a few familiar faces. You're often alone in a crowd of people you’ve never met. You realize it after you’ve eaten toast for the 5th meal that week, and after your total hours of sleep that week can fit on one hand.

I never thought I’d miss a place I used to count down the days until I left. I missed my hippy parents I used to bicker back and forth with non-stop. They're the old 'rents who seemed way too outdated to understand a thing I was talking about. I became so excited to come home and tell them everything.

There's the drive back home for the holidays. It's the same highway you drove down to high school every morning. It reminds you way too much of grabbing your keys at 8 a.m. every morning trying to race to school before the bell. The highway you once drove on is different. Different people now consume these roads. There’s construction around everything.

You take the long way home passing by your friends' houses. There's the Chipotle that has an angelic gift of rolling your burrito the correct way. Your favorite local coffee shop you can’t wait to taste again is on your left. You feel at home driving through town, as the radio follows you back to the house you grew up in.

It’s the same place you once knew, but it starts to feel like you've been so distant. You feel like a stranger in your hometown driving down the streets noticing the new buildings going up. You have new neighbors, but it's the same town. Your driveway is the same. Although the neighbor kids don’t play in their yard anymore, your next door neighbor is grown up now. You turn off the car, lugging everything up to the door

The house smells the same. Mom's baking, so I hope. It smells as if your favorite dinner is on the stove. The outweighing sound of the TV echoes in the background as you embrace your parents, incredibly thankful that you’re finally home.

Dad cracks the same dad jokes as Mom rolls her eyes lightly, relieved I’m home so someone else can listen to those horrible jokes. You tell them of what adventures you’ve been up to this semester, finally a sigh of relief to not be thinking of school and what the next day of homework holds.

The weight on your shoulders seems to disintegrate as you unpack. Lying down on the same bed you've slept in for years has never felt more comforting. The comforter you've had since your bratty teenager stage has never looked more welcoming. Because sleeping on the same futon seven nights a week does damage to your back.

As you lie down in bed, your racing thoughts summon. You remember why you once loved this place. It's the place where you've grown up. The tests and suffocating school work is halted for this moment. You'll wake up to no alarm and a homemade breakfast. A place you couldn't wait to leave is now a place you're happy to be back in. You're finally home.