Independence

I quickly realized today after I moved into my new house that I was, once again, on my own--independent, if you will. And suddenly I was flooded with a wave of emotions. Good and bad.

When you're six-years-old, independence means eating ice cream whenever you want, going to your friends whenever you want, and, basically, doing whatever you want. Then as you grow up, you start learning about responsibility, the importance of money to survive, and jobs. Suddenly, independence starts having consequences. And maybe when you're fourteen or fifteen, you could care less about the consequences as long as you get the freedom. But someday it catches up to you. It has definitely caught up with me.

Like most eighteen-year-olds, I went away to college and experienced my first taste of true freedom: living away from my parents, buying my own groceries, cleaning my own place, getting where I needed to go without daily reminders, etc. It was everything I had dreamed about.

And then I got homesick.

I never planned on that, but as I returned home that Christmas, it was like a piece of heaven. I only needed to see my family, my house, my bedroom, and my bed one more time to be okay with my new freedom once again. And as I returned each year to BYU, I loved my independence as an "adult." I craved, thrived, and enjoyed the freedom that being a student brought me.

Which brings me to the present. As a recent graduate, I have been living under my parent's roof again for the past four months, and now I have my independence "back." I'm on my own. I go to my new ward tomorrow. I start my new job on Monday. I have roommates again. I bought my own food today. I decide what I'm doing every day. I'm a real adult once again, experiencing life without school.

So, this is what independence feels like again.

For some reason, it's no how I remembered it. It's different. Lonely, even. Not at all how I pictured my new chapter of life. Where was the sensation of freedom? Where was the yearning for adventure in my new city?

When I went to the grocery store today to buy some of the basics, I walked up and down the aisles and thought, What are you doing??? This was not the independence I'd been seeking for the past four months: solitude, shopping for one, a quiet, unfamiliar house to come home to. I realized I missed my family, missed my bedroom at home, missed my old roommates, even missed Provo, which I never thought I'd miss. But it's a lot more familiar than here. Funny, but it's like I did a complete 360 and I'm a freshman again, homesick. This time, I don't even have a familiar face to turn to, or the excuse of living on my own for the first time.

Yes--I'm feeling sorry for myself. But writing about this is therapeutic in some ways. Honestly, it's just change--something everyone has to go through. Even if we choose the change like I did by accepting the job, moving to Utah, and renting a room in this house, it can still be so, so hard. And right now it's a little tough. I've never been completely on my own like this because I've always had someone I knew living with me as well. So as much as I like having my own bedroom, I keep my door opened, hoping one of my new roommates will notice and say hi. And I take my time unpacking, hoping it will keep my thoughts occupied for a few hours longer.

Independence is good, even when it's lonely and a little frightening. And it can have many different feelings and flavors, as I'm quickly realizing. This is a new experience that I know will only make be stronger. And how can I doubt a moment of it when I know Heavenly Father led me here every step of the way? It may feel like I'm on my own, but I'm not. Not really.

So as I unpack one box after another, I keep reminding myself that I'm doing the right thing. That this change may be more difficult than I anticipated, but that it's good change.

And if that doesn't work, I remind myself that I have a carton of ice cream in the freezer that I can eat whenever I want.