When I lived at my parent's house, there were times that I needed to get out. I know what you’re thinking-- it sounds bad, but I don’t mean it that way. High school and part of college brought on a lot of stress and responsibilities. Not just homework but sports practices and games, college applications, big projects and papers, boys, job responsibilities-- you name it. I felt like I was swimming in a pool of work, so when I was living at home I felt like I had to do everything and I had time for nothing. But as soon as I left my house and went someplace else, I could forget about all my responsibilities for a while. Now that I live on my own, going to my parents’ house couldn't be any more of a getaway.

With only about five weeks of school left in the semester, the workload has definitely not slowed down. But rest assured, I’ve gotten into a routine. I get up, go to class, go to the library, come home and I do all of my work so that the rest of the night I have time for my jobs and other activities. Even though I’ve gotten into a routine, I still feel stressed out and overwhelmed if I’m at school or my apartment too long. Having a change of environment and being with my family helps me clear my head.

Being home alone at my apartment can be quiet and relaxing at times, but sometimes it's too quiet and I can't focus on my work. Other times I can't even relax because it feels like something is missing. That's when I go home.

When I walk into my parent’s house, all of my stress and worries disappear for the time being. I can sleep in my old room, I can have mom’s home cooked meals, I can hang out with my family and watch our night time shows and I can just relax, whether it's for a couple hours or the weekend.

My mom plays a huge role in why I come home. For starters, moms know everything. They know the things that you don’t know, they know the things that you think you know, and they know the answers to everything even when you’re too prideful to want any help. I can walk in the door and mom can take one look at me and know something's up. I first start by saying, “I’m okay, why wouldn't I be?” But then that turns into telling her every detail about my week and what's been bothering me.

Overall, my parent’s house used to be a place where I felt like I always had something to do. It was still my home and I loved to be there, but there were times when I needed a break. Now, my parent’s house is a place for me to go as a relieving getaway. I still do homework when I go home, but it’s different. I can be in my old living room on my old couch doing my work, but it's different.

I guess I used to take my parent’s house for granted, but being away from it really has made me miss it and appreciate it. It’s still the same house out in the woods with mom, dad, my brother, and my dog, but there's something different about it. Maybe it’s better, or maybe I just finally opened my eyes to see what home really is.