19 years old is probably the last age someone can be truly called a kid. Especially after college, we have to grow into adulthood. We get jobs, pay bills and most importantly embrace our independence, whether that's moving out, moving away or moving on. But do we ever grow up?
Home is as inviting and comforting as a favorite blanket on a cold, winter day. I love that my parents are on the other side of one wall, and my brother the other, instead of a blaring TV or cackling neighbor. I can sleep easy to silence instead of turning on a turbo fan to drown out sirens and city noises. And when I go home, I love seeing excited faces happy to see me there. Maybe until we have families of our own, we need to relish the time we can still feel protected with the one we've known all along.
At least that's how I feel.
There's a part of me that could stay in that house forever, or go back to an age when my biggest worry was breaking curfew.
And I understand everyone's upbringing is very different, and mine very fortunate. My parents are still happily married after 30+ years, I have a great relationship with my brother and best friends I've known my whole life, best friends whose families are as much as my own - because all of our parents are best friends too.
It's a fine balancing act at this point in life embracing being on our own, and accepting that it's still OK to turn to parents and family to feel safe. When you live alone and away, you still need solace in the storm - a place to feel vulnerable.
So while we're growing older, we may not be growing up. And honestly, I'm perfectly OK to be 25, going on 15, going on 26.
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