When I started my freshmen year of college, I went to a college that was exactly two hours and fifteen minutes from my house. Which meant that from the time I got in my car and drove that two hours and fifteen minutes I would be pulling into my driveway and being greeted by my dogs. This is such an easy convenience, if I forgot something then I could go home for the weekend and grab it, or my mom would drive up for half a day to grab lunch and then drive home. For most students at my college, they were also from Montana, so they could drive home in a day and as often as they would like.

At the beginning of my sophomore year of college, my mom moved from Billings, Montana to Salem, Connecticut. Which meant that I would have to fly anywhere between seven to nine hours, take two different planes, and sit through long layovers just to get home. It was an adjustment from driving a little over two hours to get home. The first weekend that my mom was officially moved, I felt strangely lost. Not that I would go home every weekend to visit, but I would go home about every three weeks. I had been at school for about a month at this point and wanted to go back to something familiar. I found myself relying on my friends a lot without really meaning to.

As the school year went on, I did not get the opportunity to go home. During Thanksgiving, I had to work, so my mom came out to Montana and spent the break with me at school. When Winter Break came along I stayed at school until the week of the holiday and met my mom for a vacation. A similar situation came along for Spring Break. Although it was a fun year with amazing adventures, it was hard to not feel like I was missing a home.

The hardest part of the year for me came when I was in spring training for my job.

My boss at the time had the whole staff do a mindfulness exercise when he said to picture our home. When he said to picture that place, I couldn't. When I looked around the room everyone was smiling thinking about their homes and safe spaces. I immediately started to cry. I had not had the opportunity to go to my new home or see it in person, and I missed the feeling of being at home. The feeling of being somewhere familiar, that was your home, was something that I had taken for granted, and it came full circle with a simple exercise.

In the middle of spring semester, I had a free weekend and I took the chance to fly to Connecticut for a three day weekend. On the flight to Connecticut, I found myself feeling extremely nervous, but also beyond excited about going there. There was no reason to be nervous, but I definitely was. When I got off the plane the nervousness melted away and I got super excited to see my new house, my pets, my room, and especially my mom. When the three day weekend ended, I left Connecticut feeling fresh, and just all around better. The feeling of going home helped me get through the difficult part of spring semester.

In the end, my move across the country was extremely hard. It pushed me to become more independent socially than I had been in the past. I had always relied on my mom for support, and knowing that she was always there was comforting. I am grateful for the move that has happened because I got to experience a totally different place and have made so many cool memories of exploring a new area. As cheesy as it may sound, I would not trade this experience for an easier one. I had a difficult year with a lot of changes, but I learned a lot about myself and what it means to be more independent.