There is certainly an age in a young adult's life where they toy with the idea of "independence." I have put the word in quotations because to be honest, I'm not really sure what independence means.
I moved to Vancouver on my own after 20 years and 355 days on this earth. My reason for moving was purely for a change of scenery. I did not want or need to get out of my house, and truth be told I'd still be living in Alberta with my parents in our suburban house if it weren't for that thirst for change. After a year of living on my own, my parents were thirsty as well, and I moved in with them into 1000 square feet of Vancouver splendor. When I think back to that year on my own, though two years ago hardly seems to justify the "think back" saying, maybe I was a little naive about how fantastic it'd be to be independent. Living on your own is one thing, but living on your own in a new city/province/country, is totally different. Now, at 23, I'm living with my parents, about to graduate and thinking about that next step. To move out, or not to move out?
The entire idea of this post came to me when I was eating my tuna sandwich made lovingly for me by my Father. I'm pretty damn lucky to live rent free (but only if I'm a student, which I've intelligently extended), with my supportive and hilarious parents, in Vancouver. Who would ever move out of a place where you get your coffee and tuna sandwiches made for you in the morning while you're (literally) running out the door to make it in time for an 8 am class? Not me. For now, at least.
-ACC
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