There’s really nothing quite like that inevitable push that forces you into adulthood whether you are ready or not.
Sure, there are little steps you take that send you in that direction. You turn 18, you vote for the first time, you go to uni and take a class where the tutor is ok with the use of the word ‘fuck’ and the discussion of porn and marijuana (actual class I took). But nothing really throws you into the deep end like needing to move out of your family home for the first time.
Well that’s happening to me right now. For the whole two years I’ve been doing my degree, I’ve been pouring over real estate websites like a sick internet porn addiction, hoping to find the perfect place to move out in the small country town I lived in. Although I studied an hour away, a job, a boyfriend and a cat kept me home or at very least wanting to stick to my suburb. Sometimes I found something that stood out, but often the lack of rental history (or none) or the outlandish local rent prices made it impossible to do.
And then my mother decided that 20 years in one town was quite enough, and decided relocating around 15 hours north to sunny Queensland was the way to go. And it left me with the option of leaving my degree, job and boyfriend behind and following my family, or growing a pair and making the leap into adulthood and finding myself a house to live in.
I chose the latter. Obviously. My life was too far rooted down to the area I had grown up in to recklessly abandon it for the safety of the family home.
So I began the stressful task of house hunting. After nearly the whole allotted month I had to search for a house before our lease finished had ended, I was finally accepted for a house, which my boyfriend had made me apply for after installing in me some real hard grown up logic. “It doesn’t need to be perfect, but you don’t need to be homeless”.
So here goes my journey into adulthood. With my cat and my growing collection of oversized clocks in tow, I shall do what we all need to do eventually: take a fucking leap and do it.
It’s scary accepting the final step from the nest is near, that you’ll have your own space and your own rules to live by. But sometimes you need the big push to make it happen.