The most uncomfortable feeling I’ve ever had is when I was sitting in the house I’ve lived in for the past four year years and it didn’t really feel like home anymore. Having everything packed and ready to move into my dorm knowing that it was going to be what I called home for this year, but still sitting in the home I knew so well was a very weird and new experience for me.
I think it was good for me to feel like this, though, because it made me more excited to get out. It just wasn’t where I needed to be anymore, and sitting in my empty room really hit me that, for the rest of my life, I’m really on my own to find out where my “home” is.
That’s such a strange concept that one day you’re just expected to be on your own and find your own way. I think there’s a definitely a time for that and I think it’s important to be able to realize that being on your own is what your life has been leading up to (I just can’t say it didn’t hit me like a train).
Senior year was a time where I basically had all the freedom I could ask for and I could stay out later than I ever had. I didn’t have to ask permission to go anywhere that was close, but I always had to make it home at some point. People had friends over to their house senior year under their parents' roof because, where else were they supposed to go? Now, my friends have me over to their dorm. It’s such a big transition that honestly doesn’t get enough recognition.
It’s a hard transition. You’re fully responsible for yourself now, your parents aren’t expecting you home at 2 a.m. No more curfews, no more expectations by your parents. The only expectations that really exist are the ones set forward by yourself (and your roommate).
I went from having to raise my hand to go to the bathroom in class to getting all of this freedom in this new place and in my new home--it’s a very overwhelming feeling. Growing up takes a while and I remember freshman year of high school I just couldn’t wait to have all the freedom I wanted. Now that I have it, I’m unsure what to do with it.
How does one adult?
Doing laundry, getting toothpaste when I run out, being responsible for buying food and drinks for the fridge, the list could go on. Instead of just being responsible for getting home by curfew, I’m responsible for making sure I survive. Okay, that’s a little dramatic, but, the point is, my parents aren’t constantly watching over me anymore and they aren’t there to get what I need.
Calling Lawrence my home is definitely going to take some getting used to, but I guess that’s my first step in "adult-ing."
