Written by: Katie Cassin
From the day that I turned 18 until now, I’ve tried to convince myself that every big step that I’ve taken is the one that will finally turn me into an adult. I moved into residence and was on my own for the first time –how grown up of me! I moved back home, and saved some money, which seemed very responsible. I pay my insurance now, and have a TFSA, so I must be an adult, right?
I build myself up when these changes come, hoping that they will finally put me into this “real world” that I hear so much of. Yet, with every change, I slowly realize that I’m a lot further away from adulthood than I thought.
For 18 years I have lived in the same house. My brothers and I have grown up there. That’s 18 Christmas’, a few fights, and many great memories that we had in this space that we’ve called home. That being said, it has changed over the years. Don’t get me wrong, the house is lovely, and it worked for us, but as our family has changed, the house hasn’t always done so with us. So, the house is listed for sale.
When the topic of selling it first came up years ago, I wasn’t ready. I was feeling anxious and depressed, and I thought ‘how could something that was always there to retreat to, when I couldn’t cope with things, be gone?’ Some days it was the only thing reassuring me that everything was going to be okay.
I think that I’ve grown up a lot since then. I’ve started ‘adulting’. And, even though I thought it would take the legal right to vote, or owning my own car to finally grow up, I know now that, for me, it happens in steps.
Selling our family home is just another step. A huge step. One that I’ve learned to embrace now, rather than fear.
On Wednesday night, we bought an amazing townhouse, that I absolutely adore, and even though I know that there will be a few tears shed on the day we move out, I’m no longer dreading losing my childhood. I’m simply looking forward to this next step of independence amongst many more steps to come.