Leaving your home for school is a tough choice that many of us make at the ripe age of 18. We barely know how a mortgage works, if we can wash whites with colors, or if we can actually microwave a 20-pound turkey. We rely on our parents and our family to tell us what we need and how to survive.

We leave home, find a new place, maybe move in with a couple of friends, and suddenly have to learn to live on our own. We spend the first few weeks trying to figure ourselves out, understanding life outside of the home. And it's not easy. We'll drop a red sock in our wash full of whites, forget that we left the oven on overnight, and let the dishwasher overflow.

We have to learn how to balance school life with a social life. We watch all of our friends from back home, not having to change their ways. They still get to hang out together, go out to the same parties, and get to come home to their families every day. And although we envy that, we pity them.

We left home, not because we had to but because we wanted to. We made a big decision to go off on our own and try something new. We wanted to better ourselves and live life how we want to. We moved to a different city, sometimes a different state, just to get a taste of living somewhere new. We mingle with the locals, we pick up their dialect, and we eat their cuisines.

Soon, we're comfortable and acquainted with our new home. We know our way around rather well and can point you to the best bar with the cheapest drinks. We can find our way home, or from place to place, at night with a dead phone battery. We grow accustomed to the new ways of life in our new home. Better yet, we know the traffic patterns and the areas to avoid on game days. We've finally familiarized ourselves with the ways of life.

But still, we remember our homes fondly. We think of the route we used to take to school in the morning, the kids we'd pass by, and the crossing guards that waved us across the street. We compare our new favorite restaurant to the one we loved back home, and we tell all of our new friends that they should try if they ever decide to take a little trip. We'll use a phrase from back home that makes our new friends raise their brows and say, "that must be a (your hometown) thing."

Despite all of the crazy changes, it makes the holidays so much better. We pack all of our things into our duffel bags and head home, eager to jump into our childhood beds and forget everything for a while. We tell our old friends that stayed home, or went their own separate ways, about all the things they've missed, and they tell us all that we've missed since being gone. Some good news, like a friend's pregnancy, and some bad news, like a friend that's passed away. Somehow, we still find comfort being among our old friends, sharing with them and remembering what things were like before we left.

Soon enough, it's back to our new home, bringing back keepsakes and groceries and anything else we could pack into our bags. We miss home, but we really can't wait to be back in our beds, in our apartments and shared spaces with friends. Throughout all of this, we learn to cherish those places and those memories of our hometown because they've helped us become who we are today. We will always miss our hometown, the people, and places that make it home, but we've got to grow up and move on.

To the kids that left home: we're so proud of you.