Were you afraid to move out for the first time?

Not really. I moved out to go to college, so at least I had support from friends I made there. And then when I moved out to my first base, I had my girlfriend (now wife) with me.

I got kicked out. So no. I wasn’t afraid to move out.

I wasn’t afraid to move out. I didn’t leave home until I was out of community college. I moved into a dorm and made friends quickly. It was great being away from home! I lived it up for quite some time. Now it’s been 5 years and I miss my family and wish I had never left. Growing up is tough.

No. I left my parent’s house when I was 16 and never looked back.

I couldn’t stand living at home. It was an abusive situation. I wanted to move out, but also wanted to finish high school since I know you have to do that to be anything in life. As it was, I spent weekends at my grandparents’, so every week along with the laundry and school books, I packed another bag of belongings and stowed it there.

When the time came and I was gone, the day after graduation, I didn’t have much to take. I couldn’t take the furniture or the cat, but I had everything else meaningful already at my grands’ place. I didn’t look back.

I lived at the Grands’ for a summer (with a job to save money for college) and then I moved to campus. I ended up not talking to Mom for several years. It was one of the best things I’ve ever done.

No, and as a matter of fact I greatly welcomed it. I got a job at the Forest Service across state, and moved into a shared bunkhouse type of situation. I guess the only thing I was worried about at all was getting along with my new roommate, but he ended up becoming a good friend. I enjoyed the adventure.

I never really “moved out.” Just went from one home to another.

i moved from pennsylvania to colorado by myself in january. it was the first time i moved out. i really didn’t think of it as a big deal. it was just time. and it felt that way. it made it easier because my boyfriend was already here in colorado so i had something here that i so badly wanted to be with so that made it sooooo easy. if it hadn’t been for him i imagine it would have been a lot harder and lonelier. im so happy i did it. especially coming from pennsylvania. god, no one leaves there.

Never afraid. I’d been planning all through high school how to leave and spent my last year working while in school and stockpiling household stuff for when the time came. My parents had been planning to move to another part of the state and though I had said I wasn’t going to join them, they didn’t believe me until the day I started packing.

Supporting myself was rough because I was determined to do it without help from my grandparents but I worked a few restaurant jobs while going to college, maintained honor roll and would have been fine had I not wanted to stop school and concentrate on starting a business. I have no regrets about leaving home when I did.

I thought I was completely prepared to move out for college until the day I actually moved out and realized I was terrified. The first weekend at college was awful. I didn’t know anyone and my roommate was a sophmore and didn’t care if we were companionable or not. Eventually things got better and I made friends quickly. But that first weekend was scary.

When I moved to NYC I was much more terrified than when I went to college. I doubted my decision daily. But I sucked it up and did it and it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. My transition was a lot slower than college, but I absolutely fell in love with the city. I ended up doing freelance work off and on while working retail for the steady income. Also, I saved a lot in preparation for my move. That ended up sustaining me through some meager months.

I was about 8, so yes and no, kind of a mix between the two.

Afraid would not quite be the correct word, more like sad and discontented missing my old home.

I made plenty of friends at my new house though, even though they were not the coolest…

Hell no.. I couldn’t wait to get out of there! I graduated high school at 17 and I kept begging my parents to let me move into my own place. They wouldn’t let me until I turned 18.

No, I went off to Basic Training..and pretty much grew up quick.

Not at all. My parents and I have a toxic relationship. I needed to get out of there and be with my man, so I did.

I was extremely happy to move out. My parents and I didn’t get along very well. I knew my boyfriend and I had enough street smarts to make it on our own. And we did. We never paid a bill late, never went totally broke, and never had to move back home. I’d call that pretty successful.

I could not wait to get away from my mother. I did end up moving back in because of money…back into an unfinished basement, smoke in the air from her chain-smoking, slept next to the furnace, my mattress on concrete, and had to pay rent! It was better than not having any money at all and worrying about bills. But, you can bet your ass I was out of there at the first sign of a bigger paycheck.

Not at all. My mom didn’t like my boyfriend, so I took a suitcase full of my stuff, and moved in with him in his grandma’s house. His mother took us to the courthouse and we got married. We moved into our own apartment a few weeks later, and then I lost him in a car wreck. I and our new baby moved back in with my parents who took care of me for the next year.

@YARNLADY What a sad story.

@YARNLADY :( That sounds awful.

I hated living at home.

I was 20 years old, in an abusive situation, being constantly belittled and attacked, while I was the only person in the house with a full time job, cooked every meal, cleaned the house, made sure my siblings got to school, etc. One day my parents and I got into an argument about my boyfriend – my first boyfriend, who I met at their church – and they basically told me if I didn’t break up with him they were going to “make me move out”.

The next day, I made arrangements with my co-worker, who happened to be looking for a roommate. I came home that night and started packing.

My parents started this whole “You’re abandoning the family!” bullshit, telling me I’d never make it on my own, I didn’t know anything about the real world, I couldn’t manage my own finances, etc.

I was gone the next night and in my new home. Three days later my stepfather called to ask to borrow $100 to buy cigarettes and gas. He paid me back in $10 installments, after I chased him down for it.

I never went back. My boyfriend and I became engaged a few months later, and got married within the year.

When I first moved out I was thirteen. It would have been more frightening to stay.

I moved out when I went to art school. The first weekend really sucked because I didn’t know anyone and didn’t know where anything was. Plus I’d heard all these crazy stories about crime in my new city, and I was afraid to go out at night for a while. After that I got the hang of things and made a bunch of friends really quickly.

My situation was different because my college was paid for by my mother’s life insurance policy. (After her death, I lived with my dad and my stepmother, but we weren’t close.) I lost my scholarship, but kept going to school for as long as I could and waiting tables to make some money. Eventually I just couldn’t afford college anymore, so I dropped out and moved home to live with one of my friends. After a few months of that, I rented my own place. That was scary, because I had a hard time earning enough to cover my rent and coming up with money for things like food and transportation sometimes.

Eventually, I found a better job, a cheaper place, and started going to community college as a business major. I recently moved in with my aunt, which has allowed me to start driving and saving some money. My goals are to build up a substantial savings and finish a degree, but I’d like to keep living here for a while.

I wasn’t really afraid to move out, but I was reluctant to move away from my boyfriend to go to school. When I did finally get to college, I was a little nervous the first day, everything new, but not nervous about leaving my parents home (and college wound up being awesome!). Moving out of my parents home seemed fairly natural to me. I had spent a lot of time staying with my boyfriend anyway.

After college I moved home for a few weeks, and thought I might move to FL. My dad sort of tried to talk me out of it, because he thought I was too unstable (I had broken up with the boyfriend I mentioned above in my senior year of college, and being back in town was making me upset about him all over again). A girlfriend of mine said to me at one point, “just go, live your life, get out of here.” And then, just a few days later my mom said, “just go to FL, what’s the worst that can hapen, you can always come back.” I still think of that day, what my mom said, as a gift.

My grandma gave me money for the autotrain and a $1000. I was in an emotional state, my dad was right about that. The day I first planned to leave I couldn’t get my shit together, I was too freaked out. But, the next day I made it. Just in time for the train. By the next morning, while driving down the Florida Turnpike from the train station to my friends house, I felt so much better. I was in a vacation location, and I felt like I had closed one chapter and opened another. I stayed with that friend a couple of weeks and then my cousin a few weeks; and then finally got a job and moved in with a roommate. I didn’t have a difficult adjustment. I loved the palm trees, and the sunshine, and worked with fun people.

My parents always made it clear I could not just do nothing after High School, I had to go to college or have some sort of plan to be able to support myself.

I also was never a party girl, was always responsible with money, and had a level head, kept myself safe. I was in many ways born grown up.

I was ITCHING to leave where I was; you can’t imagine. If I hadn’t been accepted to uni (which was really rather a remote possibility), I’d’ve moved out the moment I turned 18.

I couldn’t WAIT to get out! My father would use his fists on me for the tiniest of infractions.

No, I wasn’t afraid or apprehensive in any way.

I moved out of my dads home last May (2009) when I was 22 years old. I moved in to a flat in a town about half an hours drive away from where I used to live. I am still there and very happy. I struggle to make my wages last a whole month but I always manage to get my rent and bills paid and so that is the most important thing for me. I was too excited at the time of moving to be scared.

Edit: I feel the need to add, having read the above posts that, thankfully, unlike many of the people who posted before me, I have always had a very good relationship with my dad and so the only thing that I struggled with, when moving out of his home, was how much I missed his sense of humour. I feel very blessed that, if it all went pear shaped, I know I always have a home with my dad.

On the contrary.

I’m still living at home(but I was tossed around from parent to parent)...but now I pay half the bills and can do whatever I want