My Parents House — Moving Out and Moving On

This past weekend I went home for Father’s Day — to see good old Dad and spend some quality time with friends and family. I’m always glad to be home, but I couldn’t shake this funny feeling that something was different.

First, I couldn’t connect to the WiFi. Nothing says “You don’t live here any more” like a new internet password.

Wrong_Password

Then, unlike when I came home to visit from college everyone seemed too busy to chat about what was going on with me.

And I probably sound like a spoiled brat saying that, but I’m not trying to insinuate that my parents don’t care about me or that I needed more attention. That’s NOT the point.

The point is. Life is going on at home without me. And I am going on with life on my own.

And these weren’t the first signs.

Although it  doesn’t look quite this bad now, a few months ago when I went home, my bedroom looked like this:

my_childhood_bedroom

My parents had new carpet installed up stairs, so ALL of our furniture found it’s way into my childhood bedroom. My bed was just a mattress on the floor, and I had three different dressers, none of which were filled with my clothes.

This time, my bed was back in its frame, but there are still quite a few pieces of furniture and packed boxes that don’t belong.

But I’m not complaining.

No really.

I’ve told my parents a dozen times that they should paint over my pink walls, take down my Marilyn Monroe posters and move in to the bigger room. But they won’t do it until I’m fully employed somewhere and out on my own for good.

But in my own mind — I’m already there.

When I was in college, my parents house was still my home.

It was my sanctuary. It was a pace away from roommates, homework and a break from the chaos.

But now, it’s just my parents house.

A place I visit. The place I grew up.

Now — as crazy as it sounds — I feel at home in my tiny, white walled, New Jersey apartment. And while I do miss my family and friends (a lot and often!), I don’t miss my home.

I’m not a person who dwells on the past. I have good memories and like to reminisce, but I feel like I’ve lived every part of my life (so far!) to the fullest.

Regret_Nothing

“Don’t let the past steal your present.”
–Terri Guillemets

This is the same reason that I don’t miss college.

I often lie when people ask “Don’t you miss Penn State?!” But the truth is… I don’t. I’ve moved on from that part of my life, and I’m happy where I’m at. I’m excited about what the future has to offer, and I would never want to take a step backward, even if I had the opportunity to relive something.

While it may be strange to go home to a place that no longer feels like mine, I know it is all for the best. It’s a sign of growing up and moving on.This is a turning point in my life where I am becoming my own person and starting to build my own family. I will never forget where I came from, but right now I’m more focused on where I’m headed.

 

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