I Moved Out, But That Doesn’t Mean You’re Rid Of Me That Feeling You Get When You Realize Your Room Is Now A Storage Closet
Ahh, Thanksgiving. A week that is always looked forward to. A short break when you get to put a hold on all responsibilities and head back home for a few days to hibernate and spend time with family. You never think about the year when things start to get weird until you come home to find that your room is covered in Halloween decorations that haven’t made it into the attic, patio furniture, and an array of other miscellaneous items that definitely don’t belong here.
My parents are beginning to enter the “empty nest” stage of their lives. My sister and I have both graduated and moved into New York City and my brother is finishing up his last few years of college. So this really shouldn’t have surprised me I guess. I suppose that I should have seen it coming – I am just six weeks shy of being 25 years old after all. I’m not naive enough to think that my parents would preserve my childhood bedroom forever like a shrine. What I definitely didn’t anticipate though was how weird and old it would make me feel. I wasn’t prepared for the feeling when my bedroom in my parents house would be a less comfortable sanctuary than the room that I’m coming home from.
In college, your dorm room is never better than your home bedroom. It’s always gross and it smells and you have to share a bathroom with a bunch of other kids on your floor. When you get home, you find all the stuff that you left behind exactly where you left them and that Mom stocked the fridge with all of your favorites because she was super excited for your homecoming. There’s no contest when it comes to which place is more comfortable.
But now that I’m older and my younger siblings are also not living at home all of the time, the comfort level has dropped a bit. I’m finding that I prefer my bedroom in my apartment with all of my things and my personal space to my childhood bedroom. Especially since I came home to find a giant skeleton in my bed (literally, not figuratively) and my TV dismounted from the wall and sitting on the floor. I’ve come to the point where my separate home feels more like home than my parents home.
Time To Reflect
So now it’s reflection time. What does this all mean? I’m in this odd transition period between being a kid and being an adult and the obvious symptoms of it are giving me the heebie jeebies. Per usual.
This homecoming isn’t a homecoming at all. It’s actually been a confirmation of me not living here anymore. I’m not saying that I don’t enjoy being here or that this hasn’t been the family oriented hibernation that I wanted, because I do love being home and spending time with my family. This year just has a much different vibe than years passed. I have a whole life of my own that I’ve started to build that is completely separate from my family life and the results are imminent by the fact that my spot is being kept warm with backyard furniture.
I think that the moral of the story here is that I’m getting old and it’s bitter sweet. I’m excited for what’s ahead but sad at the realization that things won’t ever be the same. I guess that’s part of growing up – gotta roll with the punches.