On Moving Back Home…

Hey!

no place like home

So it finally happened. The moment I’ve been waiting for since I moved back into my parents house. My mother pushed a button.

When I was in high school, my relationship with my parents was.. tense. At best. I was constantly rebelling for one reason or another and whatever their stance, I treated the conversation like a debate and took the opposite position. (My parents still think I would have made a great lawyer) I moved out when I was freshly 18 and haven’t looked back since. That is, until my carefully built life came crashing down around me and I sucked it up, asked for help, and ended up back at home.

It’s been 2 weeks, 4 days, 1 hour and 47 minutes since I moved home.

It took approximately 2 weeks, 3 days, 22 hours and 39 minutes for me to feel comfortable in my space.

It took approximately 2 weeks, 4 days, 1 hour and 24 minutes for my mother to say something that made me want to scream.

They gave me the basement apartment and said “treat it like your first apartment.” So I did. I moved some furniture, I changed the layout, I took the treadmill out of my room and split the giant desk into 2 pieces. I put some pictures on the walls, cleaned the goo out of the bottom of the fridge, and finally felt like I might be comfortable here.

At dinner I was talking proudly about how I used a drill and a screwdriver to change the desk, and she said, in a disapproving tone:

“Well make sure you talk to me about it before you make any other decisions to rearrange things.”

What happened to my first apartment? To “having my own space” and “giving me privacy”?

I realized that I could either fight, or I could accept it. I’m not on my own anymore. I asked for help and now I’m paying the price. Being at home, I will get all the love and comfort I could ask for, and then some. I will get the fancy expensive food that I can’t affortd, but I will get asked where I’m going, and when I’ll be back. I’ll be judged on my sleeping/eating/television watching habits but I’ll get unlimited internet. I will never get the space I could on my own, but I’ll always have clean fluffy towels. I will never be free to do whatever I want, but I will be able to reach my end goal more quickly.

There’s no place like home.

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