Moving Out

I’d been thinking.

I do would like a place I can kind of say, ‘I live here.’ but not say that I’m still living under my parent’s roof. The thing is, I wouldn’t know where to start. Well, I do, but I’m paralyzed because I don’t have anyone holding my hand. I can’t help it, its how I am.

If its a process that people have done so before me, I’d like someone to hold my hand, to show me how its done.

I feel like such an idiot, so naive, so sheltered that I can’t do this on my own. I suppose everyone has to take baby steps, but I’m kind of embarrassed of how this is for me. Sure, there are upsides of having a safety net there, but there are things that do frustrate me, the constant head butting. No doubt the frustration will never really go away, as evidenced by my mother calling me at 6 am while I was living in a dorm in Bangkok for a year, to make sure that I was sleeping in my own bed.

I want to move out by the time I’m 25. Because hell. I’ll be 25. Arguably quarter of my life gone and I’m still living with my mother. Sure, its pretty much standard back in the Philippines, where the price of living alone is much greater rather than here in Australia.

Sure, I’m not going to be able to get a townhouse or two bedroom apartment to myself, but I’m not even expecting that I will. I’ll be happy with a nook to myself (of course, provided its not in a sore state of disrepair >.>), I do not want some grandiose place that I know I will have to clean and maintain by myself. Back h0me, unless you come from a wealthy family and/or back good financial back up…

A portion of this as well, I guess, stems from the fact that back home, there were maids and drivers for even mid income families. Maids, more so. It wasn’t really out of the ordinary to have both parents working or out of the house, and everyone comes home to a clean house, laundry’s already been done, dinner is ready. All the children need to do is study, behave, and go to bed on time.

Back in High School, I used to sometimes stay on campus till 5 pm, where then I would take the last bus home (more on how the school bus system works later), or I would go home in time for my private tutorial session, then afterwards just watch TV or muck around till its time for dinner, and subsequently, bed.

The bus system was built around security – some students had drivers/sitters/parents that would wait outside the school gates for their daughter, others would take privately owned buses that ferry children on routes determined by where the children lived. These buses did not have a set drop of point at a stops or corners, rather, these buses drove the passengers all the way to their drive ways. In the morning, we would end up waiting for some students who had overslept, since we drove up to the drive way to wait for them to board.

It was all for security for a private girls school (though we picked up and dropped off students from different schools in the vicinity), and it goes back to a slighty sheltered life (though arguably, my eyes were opened to a lot more than what some others would have due to my travels) because of how life was back home.

I dislike being like this, helpless but theres not much else I can do because how I am kind of prevents me by me being terrified of failing and my mother looking down at me as if I am incapable of doing things myself without her help.

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