Growing up I had a relatively good childhood.

I grew up in a small town of about 2,000, had great friends and two awesome parents. Unlike others, my parents weren't divorced and we did everything together. At the beginning of my senior year, everything changed. My Mom was diagnosed with lymphoma and passed away 6 short months later.

I felt like my life was over, and that doing anything that made me happy was wrong and I should be sad that she's not here to witness it with me. I didn't even think I would be able to leave for college, but after months of therapy, I did. Leaving my Dad was especially tough as I was the only child living at home and my half-sister lived an hour away.

I knew he would be lonely, but I knew I had to continue my education. College helped in more ways than I could have thought. I was no longer looked at as the girl who lost her mom, rather just a normal college student who had the choice to tell people my story rather than have everyone know and talk.

I finally had the opportunity to decide who I wanted to be in life (though that one is still up in the air). I was able to have fun with friends and have new experiences. I found a few friends I can be completely open and honest with and it's a great feeling, and I could never thank them enough for getting me through the year.

Leaving the town, and the house, where everything I saw reminded me helped as well, though I felt extremely guilty for not visiting more.

I decided not to move home for the summer, which adds to the guilt but I know that I need to do what's going to benefit me. Starting fresh helped ease the pain rather than dwell on it. My Dad comes to visit me once a week as I am only an hour away, which helps.

My life is still not OK, but that's OK.

I still sit up some nights crying and wondering why it had to have been me to go through this pain. I scroll through social media and see memes about moms and it crushes me a little. I walked into a floral shop last week and almost broke down crying because my Mom used to work in a floral shop and the smell made me miss her. I have a few of her things with me in my new apartment that help me to remember the good moments with her, before she got sick.

In 6 days, it will be a year and a half since I lost her.

The pain never goes away, but it does change. It doesn't get better, but it gets easier to deal with. Letting yourself start somewhere new is the start living again, whether it's a different place or just different mindset. I always felt like I was running away, but I realized I was running to where I needed to get to in order to cope. It's not moving on, it's moving forward. I know my Mom would be proud of me trying to become the best person that I can be, and that I am content with.