Last month I moved out of my mom's house and into my own apartment. The apartment is in the same building as where I lived with my mom, but I pay my rent and it is completely my own space. 

For the past 9 years I've felt like a teenage adult; living with my family was completely fine. It felt very normal and as I got older, new dynamics emerged. Living with my mom and sister felt like living with roommates; I was an adult but my mom treated me like one.

However, over the past year or so, I've started to feel suffocated. My mental health was suffering, I felt like I was being stunted in my growth and very stagnant in life. I've had those moments before but nothing this bad. I had gotten a new job in June 2022 and that definitely helped things but there was still something missing. I wasn't/aren't ready to focus on dating so I figured my own apartment would be the fix.

It's been a month and I have to say, I think that is definitely the fix. 

This apartment had been in the works since October and the fact that I'm here, settled, and living alone is unreal. I kind of never thought it would happen but I'm very happy it has. 

Over the past 9 months I've gone back and forth with how I felt about living alone, about moving out, and about this huge chapter of my life coming to an end. I've been happy, anxious, sad, sentimental, and overall extremely emotional about the change.

I've moved a lot in my life; including 4 years of college, I've lived in 12 different homes in the past 30 years. The house I was in before this new apartment is the longest place I've lived my entire life. I have lived with my sister and mom since I was 13 when my parents divorced and we always joked that it was kind of Gilmore Girls-esque. We were a girls house and not living like that anymore felt really weird to think about.

I've probably lived with my mom and sister for the last time in my life and even now, that makes me very emotional and sentimental.

I went through a lot of change in the past 7 years living in that house; I grieved my father, my aunt passed away, my grandfather passed away, I had my heart broken multiple times, I've gotten new jobs, got fired, went through the pandemic... it was a lot that happened in my bedroom safe space. I became a different person and it felt very scary to leave that behind.

It was very scary to leave my mom's home and not have that safety net, even if it's just a few feet away. I was a mess leading up to the move and then for the week after. I had multiple panic attacks, couldn't sleep, got myself sick, and was just not ok.

I cried the entire first night alone in my apartment because it didn't feel like home. I felt like I was in a strange, unknown place and I almost had a little PTSD flashback from when I moved to college my freshmen year. It was very weird and upsetting.

Then, somewhere along the 2nd week of living alone and once the apartment started to come together with photos and my belongings, things started to settle down. I felt like I was at home; I got into a routine and started to feel like myself again.

I love being in my apartment, I love my pink velvet couch, I love my kitchen, and I love the freedom of doing what I want, when I want, and not having anyone else around. That's probably not good for me in the long run but it's been a month, let me live!

The apartment is no where near done; I still need end tables, lamps, a bar cart, and some other organization things but next week I'll share more photos and also talk about where I bought everything because I was balling on a budget, as usual.

All in all, moving out has been a very positive experience. It's the next stage of life for me, it's a move in the right direction and I feel like I'm coming back into my own. 

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