This time next week will be my last day living with my parents- and hopefully the last time. Nothing is more ego-blowing then being almost 29 and living with your folks. I appreciate that the took me and my son in- given the situation. I lived on my own 3 years prior to getting pregnant. I was a mess. Drinks, drugs, men, and forever in debt and broke. I’m determined to get it right this time. Being a mother changes you (and hopefully for the better in most cases).
I’ve never really felt home anywhere, except the house we lived when I was 4 to 14. Only because those are pivotal childhood years, and primarily the years you remember the most-- the years you remember your fondest holidays and birthdays, the years the summers felt long, and the years you remember your first neighborhood pals. I’m glad my parents do not live there now however- because it’s now in a bad neighborhood_ but things were different when I was small, or at least it felt that way then. Back in the day there was a corner grocery store, there was a church, there was a burger king, the was a dairy queen, there was a daycare and there was a Winchells doughnut shop my dad took me to most Sundays. The corner store is now a an automotive store where someone was shot to death and killed, the Winchells is long gone, the church has a liquor store next to it (& bars on their window), and the old daycare was turned into an apartment complex that has since been condemned (BK and Dairy Queen are still there however).
We’ve lived in 3 other houses since that time (and 2 other apartments on top of that in my case) . Nothing has ever felt like home, it’s mostly just places to live until the next place. I always wonder if Dominic will have a sense of home. I most likely will never own my own house (I have no desire too and I crave change entirely too much- too often)- so I wonder what he will remember most. I hope he shares my sense of adventure instead of sameness, but either way I will oblige him.
I’m excited for this change. I feel like I can breathe again, knowing I can provide for my child ALONE. That despite his dad leaving I am thriving. I’m also looking forward to enjoying my parents again. Don’t get me wrong I LOVE them, but when you’re their child, despite age, you are treated as such. It’s hard to change the dynamic when you live under the same roof. The arguments, the annoyance, and the wanting to flip out and start screaming (I’m sure they feel that way about me too at times). So once again boxing up my life and heading out. I hope to make our humble apartment a home for however long I choose to stay.