This past May I finally moved out of my parent’s dwellings and into my very own little apartment!
I’ve been inching out the door since the day I graduated high school.
First I moved off to NYC and did the dorm thing, then I moved home for the summer with a boyfriend, then to Brooklyn, then back to that boyfriend’s parent’s house and then back to my Dad’s after we broke up.
During this first phase I was essentially on my own, but without the full financial burden of really living on my own.
God, I miss those days.
After crashing at my Father’s for a few weeks I couldn’t take living at that house for various reasons, so I rented a room at my Mother’s apartment with her boyfriend.
After they broke up, she and I rented an apartment in the Silver Lake section of Providence.
It wasn’t until I fully moved out on my own that I realized how much my parents did for me, even when I was essentially their roommate.
Things like food in the fridge, a bathroom that is always clean, nice furniture, a break when my rent is late, and the comfort of living with family were all traded in for insecurity, an empty pantry, no furniture and a litter box that no longer scoops itself!
It’s not glamorous, I assure you.
I’m extremely lucky in the sense that I did not have to move out, I chose to.
Many people who have to live on their own tell people like me to stay with my parents as long as possible because it’s cheap and easy.
At 22 living on your own is not like Gossip Girl, and it’s not like Girls.
I would say even Two Broke Girls is a stretch; at least they have matching furniture…
Cheap and Easy.
Life is not supposed to be easy and it certainly is not cheap, so why lie to yourself any longer than you have to?