Home is Where the ____ Is

29 Aug

Plinky prompt of the day: What is the most confusing part of your life?

Sometimes when I read these prompts, or see one that I really like and save for later, I have a hard time putting into words what I really feel. The list of prompts I’ve saved to start later is far longer than the list of prompts I’ve actually started. Not so with today’s topic. The answer came to me almost instantly. The most confusing part of my life is how to live an adult life in my parents’ house. I call it my parents’ house, despite it being the only home I’ve ever known. I remember the first house I lived in, up until I was 5, and I consider Converse to be a second home. But as far as having a life somewhere, my house is the only place that’s consistently been there. It’s familiar and comforting, yet somehow it feels like it’s not mine anymore. I’m an adult, and I have my own life – but not really. I have a job that I love. But I don’t live on my own. I live with my parents and my grandmother. I have plenty of space – it’s not like we’re living right on top of each other or anything.

But in a way, I feel like I can’t have my privacy. My family are all very quiet, and we keep to ourselves a lot. I wouldn’t say they are nosy – no one goes snooping through my stuff, and no one barges in on me in the bathroom. But it doesn’t quite feel like mine, because I’m ready to have an entire space to myself (and maybe a roommate or two). Somewhere that I can set up a life on my own, decorate it myself, cook my own meals, do my own laundry, and all that other adult stuff. I know those things are annoying and boring most of the time, but I’m one of the few people I know who doesn’t do that, and it makes me feel like a child. Don’t get me wrong, I do feel very lucky that I can live at home and not worry about money, bills, rent, food, etc. But at the same time, I do want to worry about those things. All in good time, I know, and then I’ll be sorry.

The reason this part of my life is so confusing is that I still feel like a kid in my childhood home, even though I’m not. I wouldn’t say I’ve outgrown it, but it’s just an entirely different part of my life. It’s everything I knew growing up, before college. Now that I’m back, and I’m a different person, and out of my element somewhat, I don’t feel like I can fully grow up there. That part of me was all about relying on parents for the things I needed, and learning what kind of person I was going to be. Now that that’s pretty much figured out, and I can take care of myself, I feel like I’m in a sort of limbo. I’m back at home, but not really. I can’t go back to being a high school kid anymore – I’m too mature for that. But I can’t fully be an adult version of myself, because I’m not fully independent.

I don’t always know what I want. And that’s why it’s so confusing. How do you come back home, to the place of your childhood, to be an adult?


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