I made the big move away from home almost exactly a year ago. In that year, me and everyone I know have become different people. We have all changed our hair, our styles, our lives and our personalities. Moving from little town Gardnerville to "big" city Reno was a huge culture shock for me. I had to adjust to being alone. I had to adjust to the city, the people, and I had to become more comfortable with myself. It was scary. There's no denying that.

When I left, I left everything behind. I left every trace of the life I knew- but that was the appeal. I loved the idea of moving somewhere that nobody knew my name, and nobody knew my past. I could be whoever I wanted to be. Dress how I want to dress. I could forget the person I let myself become and I could be someone I was proud of being. Someone who goes to the movies alone. Someone who tips extra because the waitress looks like she was having a bad day. Someone who wasn't afraid to be happy.

The hardest part was moving away from my family. I lived at home with my mother, my step father and my four year old brother. That little boy means the world to me. He did a year ago, he does today and he will in seven years from now. In the four years of his life, he never knew a home without me, and I had grown accustomed to stepping over his toys and tucking him into bed. When I left, I left a lot of family there. There's no doubt in my mind that I missed every single aunt and cousin and grandparent that I always lived down the street from. But more than anyone, I always miss my siblings.

While I was growing on my own and being the person I wanted to be, I was missing important moments in my siblings' lives. My younger sisters, who are 17, have always been a huge part of my life. I went from seeing them every day to once every few months, and that broke my heart. I watched them go through break-ups and fights. I watched them make strides in their careers. I watched them become these people that I hardly recognized from behind a phone screen. They started to talk differently and listen to new music. I was an outsider where I used to be an influence. I am so proud of the people they are becoming, but it hurts to only see the parts that are posted on social media.

The difference shows more in my brother. At five years old now, he doesn't even look like the same little boy I left. I talk to him on the phone, and he tells me about space. He tells me everything he learned about the stars and how the sun is so hot that if you touch it -- you die. He talks to me like a kindergartner, and there's no way he's that old yet. Right? I don't remember a little boy with a backpack and a lunchbox. I remember picking him up from daycare and carrying him when he didn't want to walk anymore. While I was growing as a person, I missed him growing up.

Though it hurts, I have don't regret making the big decision to move here, to Reno. Gardnerville is definitely not far by any means, but it feels like a million miles away. I love the people I've met, the places I've been and the things I've seen. I thought I'd be lost with nowhere to start. After probably too many phone calls to my mother asking, "Who qualifies as a reference on an application?", I finally made it to a point I would call 'adulting.' I am almost the person I aimed for the past year to be, and it took a lot of tears, heartbreak, and motivation to get me here. As many times as I wished I could just go home, I stayed. Now this is my home, and I'm happy here.