On Moving Out

I know it isn’t unheard of being 25 and moving out of the nest, but try being 25, barely making minimum wage and spending your entire life hardly ever having to make a decision for yourself. Ah – And here you thought I were about to go on some tangent about being a female raised by immigrant parents. Well that’s part of it (that I won’t be touching much on).

At 25 I was working at a small start-up barely making minimum wage. Well, not much has changed. Except at the time, I were itching to leave home without really having the means to do it, just enough pent-up anger and frustration motivating me to.

I thought I resented my family for a lot of things like the uncleanliness of our home, how I felt tied down to my family’s needs and became easily agitated by questions like “what time are you coming home?”… I blamed a lot on my family.

Flash forward to a year from then, living in my shared three-bedroom apartment, I’ve come to discover the true reason for having to move out. I needed a huge reality check. I needed to know that there were bigger problems than my family checking in to see whether I’d be home.

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Bigger problems like will I have enough money for rent? Can I risk quitting my job now? Then the question becomes what’s worse – working a depressing job? Or being anxious and broke? How long do I plan on living with roommates? What happens when the ones I’ve come to love move forward in life and I don’t? Could I live with new ones?

All these questions prompting me to make and act on important decisions. I couldn’t just return home to hit a pause button (this having everything to do with my pride). And to be honest, I didn’t want to.

Though it was an un-wise decision for me to move out I found a small part of myself building strength in making these tough decisions. With each decision I also came closer to uncovering more about myself.

Maybe there could have been a more sensible time to leave, but had I not left a year from now, I wouldn’t have discovered my true passions in life. Moving out challenged me with this nagging voice saying: “you have responsibilities that will cost you your livelihood – is this worth having/doing/pursuing?”

For whatever reason, being at home never incentivized me to work hard, and though I always knew I wanted write and pursue the arts, I guess I never knew just how badly I wanted to.

In all my teenage years I kind of missed out on being reckless (Probably because I were too aware that rebellion would have been considered very uncharacteristic of me). But moving out was my “young and dumb” decision and everyday I work hard to continually learn and grow from it. Personally, I’ve felt and still feel something rewarding in having to struggle for what you love – moving out definitely showed that to me.

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