I moved out of my parent’s house in April 2014. Although I loved my independence, I couldn’t help but wondered from time to time if it was a smart move.
We all have different priorities in life. Coming from a frugal family, my mother was a very conscious spender. Her only priority was to minimize spending. I, too, am not a big spender, but I also value experiences and personal growth. We lived in a one-bedroom apartment. My mom and sister shared the bedroom and I slept in the living room. It was inevitable I had to move out at some point.
However, I didn’t just move out blindly. I had a plan. I had been saving up from my under-the-table job in high school, I lived at home during college, and started a business before I graduated. I was able to pay off the majority of my student loans with my savings. I continued to live at home for a year after graduation (June 2013) and paid off as much loans as I could with my savings and income from my wedding photography business. By October 2014, I was student debt free.
Living on my own had its ups and downs. The good far outweighed the bad.
Independence
There was something about being able to support myself not just financially, but also doing the day-to-day mundane things like laundry, cleaning, cooking, etc. that made me realize I was more capable and self-sufficient than I thought. I never had to plan my meals and do my laundry living at home. In fact, I barely knew how to cook. I didn’t want to grow old relying on someone else for these basic essential things in life. I knew something had to change and I needed to start putting my sh*t together.
Freedom
I was always ashamed of my tiny apartment and never invited any of my friends over. I felt terrible knowing I would wake my mom if I came home late at night and she had to get up early for her job. Having my own place allowed more flexibility how I spend my time. I could host a potluck if I wanted. My boyfriend was able to stay for the weekends. What more could I ask for?
Experience
When you move in with new roommates (pretty much strangers in the beginning), you can expect sh*t will happen. In less than a year of living in my apartment, one of my roommates almost got murdered, I was subpoenaed to court because I was one of the witnesses. Another roommate recently died in his room. They were unfortunate, but these experiences made me a stronger person. I learned that I could handle crisis better than I thought, and that I was OK living in an apartment knowing someone died in it, as long as it wasn’t haunted. Misfortune is a part of living in the real world. I could hide away from it or I could face it and experience the infinite possibilities of what it has to offer.
Coming April will be one year since I moved out of my parent’s house. I haven’t looked back since. Was it a smart move? Who knew! Am I happy I made this move? Heck yeah!
Mild Turbulence 