I feel like I have to preface this article with the statement that I love my parents. They're goofy, intelligent, hard-working, inspiring, and I've always admired them for the love they have in their marriage as well.

I wasn't one of those kids who, sadly, had to grow up with unsupportive or unloving parents and needed to move out just to keep their sanity. I applaud people who grew up in that environment and were strong enough to find their freedom outside of their situations and surround themselves with people who love them. That just wasn't my story- it was unfortunate for me that I would be separated from my family so early.

My situation was a little different from most people who launch into the "real world" when they head off to college. My time came a little bit sooner.

My father, who is in the military, was re-stationed to a base in Texas my junior year of high school. Because I was so close to graduation, my mother and sister decided to stay with me in Arizona until I could graduate so I wouldn't have to move to Texas for the summer when I knew I'd be coming right back to Arizona State for college.

It was always sort of common knowledge that once I had graduated, my family would "peace out". Between my dad's deployments and time away for various other military excursions, my parents had spent enough time living apart and were ready to just be together again, even if it meant giving up their entire lives here in AZ and moving to TX together.

Throughout my senior year of high school, it became more clear to me that with every month that passed, I was getting closer and closer to being on my own. If you had asked me when I was 16 if I wanted to move out, I would've begged you to find me any couch in the world I could sleep on- I was that excited. But as I turned 18 and crossed each day off my calendar, I found myself getting more and more scared.

I realized I wasn't moving down the street, I wasn't moving 15 minutes away- I would be states away from the only family I had on this side of the country. And that sucked.

Within a month of my high school graduation, my family packed up a moving truck and were off, and I was left alone. I had an amazing friend whose family opened their home to me for the summer so I wouldn't have to pay rent or find a three-month lease until I moved into my dorm room the following August. My family was very close to our neighbors and they continuously reached out to me in case I needed anything. My boyfriend and I were only a few months into our relationship at that point, but he showed me how dedicated he was to me from the start by driving me to doctor's appointments, picking me up from work, and inviting me to spend Fourth of July with his family so I wouldn't feel lonely.

Having a support system in Arizona was great, but within a month, I missed my parents so badly it hurt. This was shocking to me because I consider myself to be an extremely independent person. I've held long-term jobs since I was 16, paid for things on my own, was responsible with my schoolwork, and worked hard for what I had.

At this moment in time, I realized I was at a crossroads. I knew I could either let this newfound anxiety consume me, or I could put my big-girl pants on and conquer the world headfirst. To be honest, I think it's pretty clear what the only option was, and this was the lesson I took out of being on my own so early:

The world doesn't stop for anybody. Your future won't wait for you because you're scared to jump. You can only go as far as your work will take you, so you better work hard. If you sit and wait for opportunity to knock, you'll miss it.

There were plenty of nights I stayed up crying because I felt like I couldn't do it on my own, I couldn't work and go to school and figure out this adult thing on my own, I wasn't strong enough.... right?

Wrong. Sometimes, we don't realize how much we're capable of because we've never been pushed to that point. Moving out, for me, was like building and stretching a muscle- I needed to put pressure on and push myself to discover just how much weight I could handle. I needed to find out on my own what would happen if I spent too much money, didn't eat properly, or didn't take care of my own appointments and health-related issues (I still have trouble making appointments over the phone...I'm not perfect). If I didn't grow up then, I never would.

I saw so many of my friends struggle when they got to school in the fall because they had to deal with living on their own and the pressure of a new school at the same time. I had a jumpstart- by the time I moved into my dorm, I already knew what it was like to be on my own and didn't have to struggle with both at the same time.

Moving out isn't for everyone, and I really didn't think I'd be able to do it. But sometimes you have to take the plunge and face your anxiety head on, because you'll never conquer it otherwise. Trust in your ability to handle the curveballs of life and you'll look back 10 years from now and be able to say you're proud of how you've grown.