Moving Out For The First Time
I moved out of my parents house last week. No, I’m not married. Nor am I planning to be anytime soon. Although my mom would love for that to be the reason I move out I’m sure. I’ve never moved out before so this whole “living on my own” thing has really taken me out of my element.
Moving has always made me very excited. It gives you a new environment, a fresh start and a place for new memories to be created. One move that I really remember was when we moved from Kentucky to Indiana when I had just turned 6. I was going into first grade at a brand new school and didn’t know anyone. Naturally, I cried when my parents dropped me off. I was, shall we say, a very shy, needy kid. No shame here, I was very attached to my parents (and admittedly, still am!). From picking out the house to unpacking, I will never forget that move. Tucker Ave. will always hold a special place in my heart. I ran up and down that street shoeless my entire childhood. All of my friends lived in walking distance, we had an awesome park close by and I have a scar on my knee from a bike wreck I had there. Growing up on Tucker Ave. taught me how to be carefree, that it’s okay to get dirty, and being a kid is an amazing part of life.
The next move was to Kensington Dr. Hilariously in the same neighborhood as Tucker Ave. We moved there when I was in 5th grade and it was every bit as exciting as the other move. I was one street over from my very best friend… like I could jump a fence and be in her backyard. It was perfect for inseparable besties. I got a trampoline for my 13th birthday at that house. I spent countless nights laying on my trampoline chatting with girlfriends, making out with boys and staying up way too late. This is also the house that I snuck out of for the first time. Yes, I got caught…and grounded, but hey I’ll never forget it. Taking risks like sneaking out of my window and getting punished for it didn’t teach me much. Naturally, I continued to do it (haha!).
From there on out there were 3 more houses. One with a pool where I would also sneak out of, throw many parties when my parents were gone, sneak boys in, and where my cat was buried. There was our house in Jeff which was pretty out of the way from my friends but it didn’t stop me from having fun my senior year and living it up. And, about three years ago we moved into our house where my family lives now. Our “forever” home. It’s absolutely perfect and everything I imagine home to feel like. So then why did I decide to move out?
Well… I didn’t really put much thought to it. It all just kind of happened very naturally and I went with it. My parents were shocked. My mom cried a lot. After they got over the shock, as much as any parent can when their baby is moving out, we started to pack. There’s something so nostalgic about going through old things and packing that I just absolutely love. There are clothes I forgot I had, boxes full of things from boyfriends (some of which made me laugh hystarically and a few that made me thankful for the experiences with them), and other random things that make me smile. The literal process of moving made me feel very vulnerable. I was very sure in my decision to do all of this but felt very inexperienced while trying to do small things like buy cleaning supplies and bathroom decor. I actually left Target one day feeling so defeated that I didn’t know what to do with myself. From helping me pack to decorating, I couldn’t have done this without my family. They have been so helpful and loving during this entire process and I am forever grateful.
So now I’m here. In my new home. Starting my next chapter in life – the next thing I need to do to become an even stronger, more self-sufficient woman. It’s been just short of a week and I’ve already learned a lot about being on my own. It’s expensive. It’s exciting. It’s kind of lonely for a second or two, but very liberating. I’m excited to have you all along on this journey with me, to experience the many rewards and woes of living on my own.