Moving out can be like a breath of fresh air. You know you're ready, your parents know you're ready, and then WHOOSH, you're free to fly. Well, sort of. Remember when you thought you were ready? That feeling tends to last all of 15 minutes once you realize you're on your own. However, there are worse things to face. Here are five simple things I wish I'd known before I moved out.

1. No more home-cooked meals.

Well, unless you make them. This learning curve may seem rather straight-forward, but you don't really think about it until it's on top of you. I used to get home from work around 9:30-10:00 PM when I still lived at my mom's house and there was nearly always a plate of food prepared and saran-wrapped for me in the fridge.

Mom was (and still is) an awesome cook and I always looked forward to having something tasty to eat after a long day at school and work. I moved out and, guess what, there was no lovingly prepared meal waiting in the fridge. Talk about a bummer, I had to cook it myself. But believe it or not, I quickly discovered I'm a pretty good cook too.

2. You must have a streamlined knowledge of cashier checks and be aware that EVERYTHING has security deposit charges.

This point in particular was a newsflash to me. Upon interviewing to rent my first apartment, the landlord said something along the lines of, "So the security deposit is $500 and we only accept cashier's checks." *insert blank stare* I couldn't recall a time I'd felt more helpless.

Thankfully, my fiance was able to help me through my internal conundrum. He coolly explained that that's the way that many apartments functioned and how we needed to accomplish the mighty task of getting the nearly mythological "cashier's check." In many ways, I thought I'd known all there was to know before that little experience. I laugh about it now because it's second nature, but it certainly wasn't back then, when the landlord may as well have been speaking Swahili.

3. Everything costs an arm and a leg. And it sucks.

There's really no way to appreciate money until you have to pay for everything yourself. And I mean EVERYTHING. Rent, utilities, electric, internet, cellphones, trust me, it adds up. You can go into the whole concept of living on your own logically, by estimating what everything will cost and make a proposed budget. Key work: proposed. There will always be something that'll pop up, quite rudely, and demand some of your hard-earned cash.

Sure, I knew that I'd have to pay for everything myself once I moved out, but I didn't realize that the only shampoo I could afford was the generic-faintly-apple-scented-brand that cost a whopping $0.99. Be aware that the quality of items that you used to have at your parents home vs. what you can actually afford will be quite comical.

4. You won't have control of your life.

I hope that point made you raise your eyebrow.s It's sadistically true that, for the first couple months, you will only have a faint grasp on the concept of control. Your brain will be in so many places that you'll feel that you will never catch up. Trust me, you will.

The first couple months, you'll have to deal with neighbors, landlords, unpacking, re-arranging furniture, parents, etc. It's exciting but also very draining. You'll feel like you're spiraling and all you can do is wait to hit the ground.

More often than not, though, you won't actually end up hitting the ground. If you're smart, you'll reach out to your support system, which hopefully has the tensile strength of a steel network. You'll admit that you can't do everything by yourself and that you need some help, you might be surprised how much help you can receive.

5. You won't miss home. But at the same time, you will.

This lesson I learned at the cost of many tears, hours of self-doubt, and the yearning for concrete understand of me. I couldn't figure out why I didn't want to hang out with m family, but somewhere deep in the recesses of my heart, I just because I missed them.

The juxtaposition was painful on a level I couldn't seem to process and it drove me crazy until I realized that I was in a state of transition, and the pain was alright. The unease that came with missing home, but not missing home, would fade as I came into myself.

There are still things I miss about my parents' home but I would never give up what I've built with my husband to go back. I"ll walk into my parents' house, greeted by my mother's warm smile and my dog's incessant crying at my return and feel the innate comfort of home. But likewise, I'll walk into my little apartment on Elm Street, have my wonderful husband wrap me in his arm and I'll smile. I'm home.