Last year I moved 400 miles from home for a job. Most of my friends at home have grown up and gone (alot of military so technically they still “live” at home). My parents were good about giving me and my brothers independence. They’re wonderful people. When I am home I find ways to enjoy it. But its not the same as my place.
i love my apartment. I love that I don’t have to answer to a soul. I love that no one cares if I get in at 3 am or don’t go out at all. I love that I can eat rice and lentils for a week if I want. I like that I can invite over who I want when I want and do what I want. I love not having a TV and having it be quiet or being noisy when I want to or dancing around the kitchen. I love coordinating my own colors and putting dishes where I want to. I love not to have a running commentary of questions about who, what, where and why. I love where I live, I like my neighbors and seeing my littlest neighbor grow (she’s almost 2). I love having a dog of my own who I feed what I choose and who I can raise the way I want and whom obeys my commands. (we had “family” pets) I love my church friends and our discussions, I love the land…the mountains, lakes, rivers, ocean. I want to invest my time, energy and future here. I don’t really care about where I used to live.
I don’t really want to go back home, even to visit. When I do I would rather be around my friends. I would rather be here.
My parents seem to hold a hope that I’ll move closer to home if I get the job opportunity, as if thats what is holding me here. I really don’t. I have no interest in it.
I probably sound like the worlds biggest brat, but honestly if God gave me my new life and new job so its not like I’m going against His will.
I just need to find a way to tell my parents that I don’t want to move back and that once or twice a year is way enough visits for me. That, sorry, i will never move back to where I used to live or anywhere around there.