I'm a full-time grad student lucky enough to have my own studio apartment, courtesy of my University job. I decided that some time at home with my family was needed, and verbally committed to spending the week of Christmas at my mom & dad's house. Normally, this would be stressful. (Trust me, it has been at times.) However, I was looking forward to homecooking, family time, and cuddling with my dog, a lot.
Instead, I'm now trying to figure out when would be the appropriate time to go back to my apartment and void my verbal agreement of spending time with the family. You see, tonight I am feeling incredibly single and alone, despite the fact that I am having more human interaction this week than I have had in months.
My sis is spending time with her ex. Mom & Dad are on a shopping date night. I just vacated the living room (and my night of Netflix with the dog) so the broface and his gf could cuddle and watch The Notebook without me feeling like a third wheel. All of the above offered for me to join them, but what for?
Don't get me wrong, I love my family and the fact that they're all so happy and in lurve, but where does my single ass fit into this mix? At least at our family Christmas celebration I was able to hide behind Barbie dolls and playing with my youngest cousins. (There's a good 20+ years between us.) My set group of single friends have all become coupled off these past few weeks/ months, and most of them have entered the lesbian cave. (For you non-lesbos reading this, that is when lesbians get together and disappear into a dark abyss of coupledom for months or even years upon end, until they break up and suddenly want to pick up where they left off. It's a lesbian right of passage, and it's really annoying to the friends of the couple, even if the friends have conveniently forgotten that they've been there themselves.) I recently completed my student teaching internship, and every single friend I made there was married, engaged, dating, or expecting. I think I met like 2 people who were single, and they were men who hit on me.
Lately, I've been thinking a lot more about getting my own place and starting my own life. In May, I'll graduate with my Masters degree. I'll be substitute teaching a lot starting in January, as well as working for my University and taking 4 grad classes. I've been hem-hawing with the idea of going for my doctorate in the Fall, but I've basically decided to just work for awhile and decide if I still want it later, assuming I can find a job. Even if I cannot find a full time teaching position, subbing earns me about $100 a day. That's a decent paycheck, and something that can pay the bills, put food on the table, and maybe even give me enough money to rent my own place. There are very few people I can ever imagine rooming with without killing our friendships, but it's something that is a very real possibility in the next few months.
My parents and my younger sister still live in the home I grew up in. In the Fall, my sis will be going away to college. My brother will most likely be getting his own place, or potentially a place with his gf. The parentals are encouraging me to stay at home for awhile and save money, but, as much as I love them, I'm very independent. It's become difficult to cohabitate with family members who don't understand that I need me-time, and, as much as "my home" will always be "my home," it's just not the home I'm used to anymore. It's time to find a new definition of "my home," and that scares the shit out of me....while still motivating me to grow up and live my own life independently.
It's time to go home, wherever that is.
Sometimes spending time at your childhood home is like spending time in an old, grainy film.
More from living