Clearing Out

My boyfriend and I broke up about 3 weeks ago, a long, private story that I’m not going to dissect on the internet. But I’m sitting in the rubble of a different future than I imagined. This is the hardest part of parting ways with someone so vital to your everyday life- realizing how much you’d built around them. I realize now I was using my boyfriend as an excuse to keep myself small because I was afraid of rocking the boat. I was content in a life where I wasn’t happy because I didn’t want to lose him. I only applied to one grad school because it was close and I didn’t want the pressure of long distance again. I didn’t get in. I moved to the city he worked in even though I hate cities and traffic and smog and flat land. He didn’t ask me to do these things, but now I’m left without much to stand on. I was naïve, but now I have to build a new future whether I like it or not.

On a trip to the mountains with my parents last weekend, they suggested I move back in with them rent-free. Saving for my future is a very tempting proposition; I’ve felt very stagnant, living paycheck-to-paycheck with the reality of food and rent and doctor’s visits eating up what I make working at a local paper. My commute would be about the same as from the city, and I’d have flexibility because a year-long lease wouldn’t tie me down. Considering all of this, I did what any self-respecting millennial would do and Googled “moving back in with your parents” and found a few survival guides. Even this New York Times article defends what media is calling “boomerang kids” because moving back in with your parents for a bit while you save money is a pretty economically sound decision. Okay, Internet, you’ve convinced me. I’m going to move back in with my parents.

Today, I started clearing out my childhood bedroom. A room that hasn’t been cleaned since I moved out at 18 (and let’s be real, I didn’t clean it much before then, either). A room with a dusty bookcase overflowing with books and a dresser with 10 year old cosmetics all along its surface. A room with a twin-sized bed and clothes I’ve had since elementary school. A room I’ll be living in two weekends from now.

I’m so scared to move home. Have I failed? Who knows. What I do know is this house has seen the best and worst of me, and now it’s going to be a resting place for a while until I get my bearings. It’s about time I wiped up the dust. I can’t hang onto the past, so I’m clearing out.



2 thoughts on “Clearing Out

    1. Thank you for that! People don’t seem to talk about it much if they do live with their parents after college. “Adulthood” is so strange and more variant than I’d ever imagined.


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