What I Wish I’d Known Before Moving Out

Independence is something we crave at a very young age. Children usually can’t wait to grow up and become an adult, but now that I’m one, I’m craving a little trip down toddler lane and I’m tempted to stay there.

On the 15th of September 2018, I found myself lugging multiple bin bags with multiple shoes and plushies inside across the ground. Shoulders aching from the weight of my laptop bag, I made it into my accommodation out of breath and in awe of my studio room. It was the perfect size for someone as small as me — not too constricting and not too spacious.

But during the week before the start of university — and being officially labelled as a second year student — I found myself wondering what was so good about independence and freedom.

It’s true that independence is unavoidable, but it’s placed by the youth on a pedestal that is viewed as unreachable at a young age. And when something seems unreachable, people strive more to attain it. But what happens when it’s finally reached?

I discovered a sense of freedom when I moved out, but I also discovered a sense of loneliness.

Yes, I no longer have to ask for permission when I plan to go out for the night, or tell anyone about my whereabouts before I leave my room, or face the slightly strict stares that marred my parents’ faces, but I found myself missing the take cares and the come home safelys they always said to me. It made me realise how alone I actually was whenever I came back from uni and other outings.

Back home, the living room was filled with noise that reverberated as joy and laughter — everyone either debated over what an antagonist planned to do next in a TV drama, or they would hurl profanities at the TV because of this antagonist. It always ended with an essence of euphoria hanging in the air.

During moments of silence at my place, I would notice this sense of nothingness. There was no high-pitched and abnormal soundings of laughter. There were no debates. There were no random thoughts being said out loud. There was just no one, except me and the lull of running vehicles outside.

I did enjoy being alone due to the tranquillity — I’d usually spend my time reading, watching dramas and catching up on work that I’d missed — but sometimes I’m left to my own thoughts for too long that I craved the interaction of other human beings, or someone to just talk to.

Slowly, I’ve made my room feel a little more home-y through customisation, although some silences still managed to let some loneliness creep in.

Food.

One thing I also wish someone told me before I moved out was how precious food was.

Since I don’t usually do the shopping back home, I would sometimes binge eat without really caring if I finished it. Moving out, however, had me thinking about budgeting and saving, as well as how much I took advantage of having food before I moved out.

Independence meant thinking about what I was going to eat the next day, looking at my emails to see if any employers responded back to my job applications, checking my bank account to see how much money I had left so I could calculate the amount I needed for groceries.

But independence also meant living the life my parents lived everyday when they worried about bills, food, petrol, and how to simply survive the adult life. Despite all the stress that these aspects of independence may bring to them, they always faced every problem, as cliché as it sounded, with a smile. It’s a trait I sometimes envy, but very much look up to.

Moving out made my awareness of being alone more profound, but it also taught me to be more grateful during the present moment.