Here is brief overview of this post if you'd like to skip all of the gushy details:
one time I moved out of my parents's house. Then I moved back in, then out again (a little farther this time), then back (yea it didn't last very long), and now I'm preparing to move out again for an extended period of time to a land far, far away and I'm elated but also I get a little choked up every time I think about it because I love my mom and dad.
Now if you love me if you feel like it, you may read on:
Freshman year of college was one of the scariest times of my life. I know, I know - that is the worst sentence ever and how is that supposed to make you want to keep reading? But it's true. Coming from the kid who couldn't make it through a (one night) sleepover without calling her mom to pick her up and take her home until the age of oh we'll say 10 (#noshame), IT REALLY WAS SCARY.
Staying true to myself, I put dorm room planning, prep and packing off until the last possible minute. Which (as it always does) resulted in a bit of unease as I stepped into (what some refer to as) an exciting new stage of life. Move-in day went well: my parents helped me get everything situated, bought lunch for all my friends who helped, and then had the audacity to get in their car and drive away. It was like a real-life version of those movies where someone takes their dog out in the forest and has to leave them there and yells at the dog to not follow them home because this is how it has to be.
Moving away from home and facing life on your own is overwhelming, even if it is just 45 minutes down the highway.
It does help though when you and your BFF accidentally decide to go to the same university... and in some ways it actually saves your life because she encompasses a level of outgoingness one can only dream of and 18-year-old-Courtney was rather opposed to new things and was not the best at making new friends because: FEAR.
Upon returning from a freshman retreat that one can only be retrospectively grateful for having been forced to attend (because a couple of people I met there are some of the best friends I had in college, blah blah blah), my desire to call my mother to come pick me up and take me home was at an all time high.
Except I was 18 and had a car so I just drove myself.
When I got home I went straight into my parent's room and laid down on the bed next to my dad and cried, and he pretended like I wasn't crying because alghough my parents have always enouraged me to express my emotions they were nice enough to let me pretend like I was acting strong for the three of us.
Am I an only child, you ask? Ha, no. I am the youngest of 5 -- yes 5. And we're not even mormon! (But if you are it's okay I don't discriminate.) I have 4 very different and very similar all older siblings who have had their share of moving away and back, but all four years of my high school career it was just me and the 'rents at home. The three of us had our daily/nightly/weekly routines and schedules and dinners and chats and fights and encouraging moments. I say it all the time - my parents are my best friends. For as long as I can I will incessantly call my mother throughout the day, and sneak fun little extras onto my dad's grocery store shopping list (it gets easier when you start making the store runs for them).
Yes, moving out seemed excruciating at the time, but turned out the be the best thing (like they said it would, psh). I learned more than I may have wanted to about myself and the world and just life man.
And then when it was time I moved back home. And then I cooked up a plan that didn't go so well so I ended up moving away and back again in the span of about 2 months. THAT was fun.
This time back at home has been, ohhhh - interesting, fun, depressing, frustrating, messy, stupid (okay maybe some of these adjectives are just ME) -- but most of all it's been necessary. The post grad shlump is a funky one, and yes I'll ride that bandwagon until I enter into the next socially acceptable stage of life that merits complaint (which if you're good at it is forever).
Being home has been just what I needed. This time around I'm a few years older and wiser (shut up I am too), with a few more life experiences under my belt that have taught me to appreciate the here and now while I can.
Mom, Dad and I have had dinner together almost every weeknight, give or take a few, for about a year now. I've grown to look forward to meeting them back at home after long days at work to unwind together. We catch up on the news, each other's days, drama (because no matter how old you get there's plenty of that to go around), and thoughts. And even when my views differ from theirs and we disagree about people and principles, we are still able to respect each other and offer advice.
Yea believe it or not sometimes I have good things to say and believe it or not sometimes they acknowledge it - borderline grown up status right here (except I think it goes away when you say it out loud). I'm sure someday I'll figure it out, but for now I'm pretty impressed at the way my parent's give me distance and let me set my own boundaries and then give the most poignant advice at the most perfect moments.
And now I'm getting ready to leave again. Very soon. For a dream that I still can hardly believe is becoming a reality.
The fear of leaving is still there, but for a different reason. This time could very well be the last time (and all the moms said amen!) that I move out. As I embark on a journey that no one really knows the second or third chapters of, I can't help but be preemptively nostalgic of the special time I've had at home with my Mom and Dad.
Because this is a time we'll never get back. And I feel like this has been my chance to make up for and improve upon all the ways I wasn't a stellar granddaughter or didn't take the time to invest in people I loved while they were in my life.
The most important realization to come from all of this is that home isn't just the place or even the people in the moment. It's that feeling deep within that has been created through the bonds and memories you share with the ones you love the most. And I will create a new home of life and love wherever I go, carrying the ones I cherish with me and incorporating new loves along the way.
And I know that whenever I get lonely or homesick on this new journey of mine, I can pick up the phone or just escape to a place in my mind that brings joy and comfort:
dinner with the 'rents.
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