I moved out when I was 21. I moved in with my now girlfriend and her family for a bit before we got our own apartment. Shortly after that, we started dating. This friend and I both agreed on a lot of things and we knew getting a place together was going to work, and it does! I was still very young when I moved out and there’s a good reason I decided to leave my house. It wasn’t just time for me to grow up and move on. I needed to get out of there.
I love my family and my parents very much, but there was always this pressure to succeed and do my best in everything. Getting a B was okay but why didn’t I get an A? I didn’t give it my all. I didn’t try hard enough. And once junior year of high school hit, it all just got worse. I was drowning in homework from AP teachers who enjoyed giving busy work. My AP English teacher once assigned us to read three different books at the same time. Thoreau’s “Walden,” “Into the Wild,” and some book of short essays. The teachers promised they were in contact with each other, but they kept assigning more stuff at the same time! My AP History teacher assigned these AMSCO’s which was basically reading and copying the textbook and then Googling the answers you couldn’t find! It was a nightmare and it was where I lost my motivation to finish school.
So, by the time I made it to college, I was already struggling. My mental health was a mess and I didn’t know all of my needs or how to advocate for myself. I ended up on academic probation after the first semester and I started out determined to make a change, but halfway through, I knew I was in over my head. College wasn’t working for me and I needed time to back away and work on myself. My parents insisted I finish the semester, but that’s the year COVID hit. We were also moving house and since my mother was pregnant again I had to help out. I even had a meeting with my advisor while painting my parents’ bedroom with primer. In all honesty though, even without all those problems, I probably would have faced the same outcome. I had given up a long time ago, and I ended up flunking out. So much for not burning bridges.
After I flunked out of college, my parents told me they’d give me a year to make my dreams happen and then I had to follow their plan, which involved finding some full time job with benefits. I worked at a fast food restaurant, but my entire life plan had changed and now I was away from my comfortable childhood home. The new house is nice and all, but it wasn’t where I grew up. After a year of pressure to help more around the house, go back to school, look for better jobs, etc, I decided the only way I’d fix my mental health is to leave. I had to leave. So, I contacted my friend and she helped me get out. My parents immediately gave my room away to my baby sister. Once she was sleeping through the night better, she moved in with my sister and my brothers moved into my old room. It was good timing since my middle brother is now a teenager and really needed his own space away from my sister. He still shares a room with our youngest brother, though.
I got a new job working at a different fast food place while I tried to recollect myself. I was still a huge mess. Eventually, my friend convinced me to get back into therapy. I ended up in a mental hospital for 10 days where I ended up getting COVID which meant I needed to be isolated for a time before I could go back. I was in therapy for a while and eventually, I found my will to live. I stopped hurting myself. It clicked when I realized I wanted to build a house in Minecraft of all things. It’s when I realized how many little things I enjoyed, small things that made me happy. Drawing, video games, etc. I had ambitions and while they didn’t affect my life, they made me happy enough to realize, why would I want to stop? I ended up getting my tattoo to remember the promise to myself that I wanted to live.
Eventually, we got our own apartment where my friend and I realized the chemistry between us and we started dating. We’ve been at this apartment for almost three years now. I still struggle with my mental health from time to time and we’ve had plenty of financial hardships over the years. Living on my own isn’t easy and it does affect my mental health a lot, but I also can’t see myself going back. I made the choice to leave and now that I’m here, I’m becoming myself. I feel safe and free to be my own kind of adult. I don’t fit in the cookie-cutter mould they tried to set. I don’t want to follow societal norms or find some cushy office job. Yes, it might bring financial security, but in the end, I know fighting for my dreams is worth it. It will take times, but I have hope that one day, I’ll really be the person I’ve always wanted to be.
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