The end of the academic year is often bittersweet. It's liberating because there aren't finals to worry about and there aren't classes to attend but can be disheartening when you realize that most students leave campus. In a lot of ways, going home for the summer is expected, especially as students are kicked out of their dorms and when other people constantly ask "When are you going home" before, during, and after finals week as if going home is the best thing that can happen to a person. For some of us, that option is a literal nightmare.

After my freshman year of college, I did go home and it was miserable, even though I was actually there for maybe two weeks. My mom and I couldn't/can not get along, even if our lives depended on it and quite honestly there was/is nothing to do in my hometown: nowhere to hang out, nowhere worthwhile to work, and certainly nowhere to get a decent internship without driving over an hour back and forth. After that summer, I vowed to stay in my college town during breaks, because I was happier there.

It may not be a conventional way of living and people may pity me, but I love having my independence: paying my bills, buying groceries, traveling to my internship, taking classes, and doing my best to grow in whatever way possible. If I were at home, I would probably just argue with my mom and stare at a wall for two months and that's not fun or worth the trouble. Don't worry: we visit each other sometimes and keep up through social media.

I feel more at home in my own space where I am able to do whatever I want, whenever I want. It may be selfish, but this is my time to be selfish. Later on in life, I will work tirelessly to make sure the needs of others are met. For now, I just want to get where I'm going. Returning home for the summer would be pointless because my family is dysfunctional and I haven't kept touch with any of my high school friends as that time of my life isn't something I like to remember.

I've moved on, literally and mentally, and I've never been happier.