For 17 years my parents took care of me and supported me financially. They made me three meals a day, kept the house clean and drove me anywhere I wanted to go. They gave me money for going out with friends, money for food, money for clothes and never asked for anything back. But I was obsessed with the idea of living on my own.
Moving out, in my mind, meant ultimate freedom and no one nagging me to do things I didn’t want to do. Little did I know how difficult the adjustment would be.
I had no idea what I was doing in my first few months away from my parents. I felt lost walking down the streets of Toronto. There are only a few subway lines in this city, and yet I still managed to end up at Finch instead of Yorkdale, twice.
This city has ridiculously crowded streets during most hours of the day which helped me feel sane — until it was time to go back to my empty apartment. The thought of being on my own every day from that point forward was absolutely terrifying. Most of my school friends commute so no one had time to come hang out before or after classes.
More at the source: By Serena Lalani – The Eyeopener
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