Living at home, the truth.

It’s funny a friend asked me about a year ago, why I keep wanting to run off to other countries and I think I’ve finally found the answer.

I didn’t know the answer at that time, but I know now the truth. I want to live abroad because living at home reduces me to a mere child. I don’t have the same freedoms, privacy, life I want. Not to mention living at home is like carrying a bit of shame – I’m 27 and still living at home. Will I be 30 and still at home? When will I grow up and become fully independent? You know what I loved best about living in Japan? It was having that space to myself, the freedom to do whatever I want. I love my parents very much and totally respect them, but I don’t like them sometimes. The little things build up into big things.

My mum can’t book her flight tickets without me there to confirm it. She can’t leave me alone in my own house that I grew up in without my father being home from his holiday. They both can’t let me stay here alone by myself. I’m 27 and I don’t know how I survived alone in Japan in a completely foreign country. Oh wait, I was 24 and I was completely fine. I didn’t die. I didn’t wilt. For 2 years I lived by myself just fine…..why can’t the same be said for living in a house for only 2 weeks without anyone?

Then the next thing is my mannerisms. Apparently I am picking up bad habits or mannerisms from other people of different races/nationalities and therefore I will attract a man who is not right for me. Oh wait so let me add to the list of men I can’t date according to my family. As if I am getting any interest at all, I need to become even more specific.

This leads me onto the universal question of….when are you getting a boyfriend? When are you getting married? Hmmm, not sure that’s in the cards for me. How about never? I don’t ****$&! know! I might not get married, or I might, but do you see me worrying about it? No, I am not worried because I don’t care. Maybe I don’t want children. Maybe my life is not defined by having kids, getting married and buying a house. Maybe I have other interests such as learning a new language, travelling, finding myself, doing what I enjoy.

When will the lectures end? Well they don’t when you live at home….

What time are you coming home? Who are you going with? Shall I make you dinner? As if I can’t cook. I would really like to, but I don’t get to. Wake me up when you get home after a night out. Why would I want to do that and disturb your sleep? So I know you’re home safe and sleep better. Ring the phone and we can collect you from the station at 10/11pm. But I live 3 minutes walk from the station, why do I need to do that? Just do it, it’s not safe. Why don’t men get this? Why do my brothers never get the same attention? Why do they get away with so much?

I cannot take this for much longer. So yes it’s great you save money and you can do less and I know I am so Goddamn lucky but at what cost? Is it worth it? Hmmm, no I think as you get older, it’s not worth it.

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Is it worth it?

Sometimes I sit and wonder, what is the point in some things? What is the point in having some friends? What is the point of this job? I am sitting here getting restless again wondering if it’s time to pack up and leave again. Today I just found out that due to a large restructure within our organisation, my new job will now be changing. So the question remains, do I want to stay? I’m not sure I like the sound of my new job, I am not sure I like being an assistant again. But how do you progress if you are forever changing and running? You can’t progress if you don’t stay in one place and that is one thing I have been refusing to do.

I look at my life in London and I find fault with it. I am not happy. When will I ever be happy? The Lord only knows. Never probably. Maybe I will always be running. Running from what I wonder. Well being back at home, living with the parents is one of the most depressing things that get me down. My parents treat me like a child. I am 27 years old almost 28 and they still insist on walking to the train station to meet me. My house is a 5 minute walk from the station, not far at all. They always ask what time will you be home? Who are you going with? They always worry. It is the most frustrating thing. Stop worrying I want to scream, but it won’t be any use, they can’t stop. I know it is very loving and sweet and I am lucky, but I feel trapped. I feel like my wings have been clipped and I crave my independence, freedom and privacy. They both can’t even go on holiday without leaving me alone despite the fact that I have lived by myself for 2 years in a foreign country. That was the last straw. So tonight I checked my passport, because I may have to make an escape soon before I go officially insane. Everyone has an opinion.

My mum blames herself and thinks something is wrong at home that my brother and I wish to live abroad. Perhaps we aren’t happy? Why can’t they just see that we just want to live independently and travel. Why can’t we just leave? Why is it so difficult? Why must everything be explained as if to a child? This all makes me NOT want to have children. I don’t want my kids to hang on to me forever. I don’t want to get so attached that I can’t let go. I don’t want children. I think I want my freedom more than I want that life.

So do I stay in this job which has been made from a contract role to permanent which I don’t really like? Do I stay in this country where I feel forgotten by friends? Do I stay in this country where I fail at dating and meeting men? What do I stay for? There is nothing to stay for, except the great TV. But perhaps it’s time for a new adventure. I wonder when I will stop running as my friend puts it. As my brother says, I’m getting old now, I need to start making important decisions instead of playing about. Well, let me tell you something. I am not old yet. I am not finished yet. And I will not just settle into this shit life that I am currently leading. I did it once before, so courage don’t desert me now, because I think it’s time to try again.