LETTER 003

Things I Wish Someone Had Told Me Before Moving Out

Moving out is one of those things everyone makes sound incredibly exciting.

And it is.

You get your own place. Your own keys. Your own kitchen. Your own little corner of the world where nobody can tell you to clean your room because, technically, it is all your room now.

Except… I didn’t exactly move out alone.

I moved out with my boyfriend.

Which means I gained independence, but also gained someone who apparently believes that leaving one glass next to the sink instead of putting it inside the dishwasher is a perfectly reasonable lifestyle choice.

So, after moving out and learning that adulthood is basically a mixture of freedom, bills, cleaning and asking each other “what do you want for dinner?” every single day, here are some things I wish someone had told me.

1. You will suddenly care a lot about things you never cared about before.

I never thought I would have strong opinions about dish soap.

Or laundry detergent.

Or the price of toilet paper.

But apparently, this is adulthood. You start standing in the grocery store comparing prices like your life depends on it.

And when you live with your boyfriend, grocery shopping becomes a negotiation.

“Do we need this?”

“No.”

Five minutes later, it’s in the cart.

“Why did you buy this?”

“I don’t know. It looked good.”

Romance.

I also understand now why adults used to say things like, “Do you know how expensive that is?”

I get it.

I really, really get it now.

2. Your home doesn’t have to look perfect.

I think there’s a lot of pressure to make your first home look like those beautiful apartments you see online.

Everything matching.

Perfectly styled shelves.

Cool posters.

Cute little coffee table books.

Meanwhile, your reality might be a laundry basket sitting in the corner for three, four days, a random box you still haven’t thrown away and two people arguing over whose turn it is to do the laundry.

And that’s okay.

Your home is supposed to be lived in.

It’s allowed to be messy sometimes. It’s allowed to be unfinished. It’s allowed to slowly become yours.

You don’t need to buy everything at once.

Honestly, some of my favorite things in our home are the little things we’ve collected over time.

3. Living with your boyfriend is romantic… until you’re both hungry.

Nobody really tells you that living together means seeing all sides of each other.

The cute sides.

The sleepy sides.

And definitely the “what should we eat?” — “I don’t know, what do you want?” — “I don’t know” conversation that somehow happens approximately 400 times a week.

You learn each other’s routines.

You learn what annoys each other.

You learn that apparently two people can have completely different definitions of what “I’ll clean it later” means.

But you also get the little things. 

Cooking together. 

Watching something in bed.

Going grocery shopping together.

Laughing about something stupid that wouldn’t be funny to anyone else.

Coming home and knowing there’s someone there.

And honestly, those ordinary moments are probably some of my favorite parts of living together.

4. Freedom is amazing… but so is routine.

Nobody tells you how strange it feels to suddenly have complete control over your time.

We can eat dinner whenever we want.

We can stay in bed too long.

We can watch five episodes of something without anyone telling us to go to sleep.

We can also leave the dishes until tomorrow. And tomorrow. And maybe the day after that.

Until one of us finally looks at the kitchen and says: “We should probably do something about that.”

Until you eventually realize you have created a problem for Future You.

Poor Future You.

She didn’t deserve that.

We have learned that a little routine makes everything easier. I’ve been telling myself “If it takes less than 5 minutes to do it, just do it right now.”

Not a strict, Pinterest-perfect routine.

Just little things.

Cleaning before things get completely out of control.

Doing laundry before you’re down to your emergency underwear.

Buying groceries before you’re forced to make dinner out of random freezer food.

And trying to remember that “we’ll do it later” is not actually a cleaning system.

5. You might miss home even when you’re happy.

This is probably one of the biggest things nobody talks about. Even when you’re excited to move out, even when you love your new home, even when you’re happy living with your partner.

You can still miss where you came from.

Sometimes you miss your family.

Sometimes you just miss walking into a room and knowing exactly where everything is. And that’s okay.

Missing home doesn’t mean you made the wrong decision.

You can love your new life and still miss your old one. Both things can exist at the same time.

6. You’ll learn things about yourself — and each other.

Living together has a funny way of showing you who you really are.

You learn what kind of environment makes you feel comfortable. What kind of mornings you like. How you deal with stress. What you need when you’re upset.

And, perhaps most importantly, you learn that you and your boyfriend can apparently have very different opinions about the correct way to load a dishwasher. This is serious business.

But you also learn how to communicate.

How to compromise.

How to give each other space.

How to take care of each other.

How to build a life that belongs to both of you without either person losing themselves in it.

And I think that’s one of the most beautiful parts of growing together.

7. Don’t underestimate the cost of “little things.”

It’s never just the rent.

Internet.

Insurance.

Groceries.

Cleaning products.

Cat food.

Laundry detergent.

Toothpaste.

Something you forgot you needed until you desperately need it.

And suddenly you’re both looking at your bank account like:

“Where did it go?”

The answer is usually:

Life.

So before moving out, make a realistic budget.

Not a fantasy budget where you somehow spend almost nothing and never order food.

A real one.

Because apparently being an adult means budgeting for things you didn’t even know existed.

8. You don’t have to have everything figured out.

This might be the biggest one. Moving out can feel like crossing some invisible line into adulthood, suddenly you’re expected to know what you’re doing. But the truth is, we’re figuring it out as we go.

We can make mistakes.

We can buy something we don’t need.

We can forget something.

We can have a terrible cooking attempt.

We can rearrange the furniture five times because we still don’t know where anything belongs.

We can disagree over whose turn it is to clean the bathroom.

We can laugh about it later.

We’re learning.

That’s the whole point.

9. Your first home doesn’t have to be your forever home.

I think I used to imagine that moving out meant creating the home. The place where everything would finally be settled, but maybe your first home is simply the beginning.

Maybe we’ll move somewhere else one day.

Maybe we’ll live in another city, or even another country. 

Maybe our idea of what we want will change.

Maybe we’ll look back at this first place years from now and laugh at the things we thought were such a big deal.

And I think that’s beautiful.

Your home can grow with you. Your relationship can grow with you. And you don’t have to know exactly where you’re going yet.

⸻

Moving out has taught me that independence isn’t really about doing everything yourself.

Sometimes it’s about doing things together.

It’s making decisions together.

Paying bills together.

Figuring out dinner together.

Cleaning together.

Arguing about something completely ridiculous and then five minutes later laughing about it.

It’s learning how to build a home with another person while still figuring out who you are yourself.

And maybe adulthood isn’t this magical state where you suddenly become completely confident and responsible.

Sometimes you’re just standing in the kitchen at 11 p.m., eating something questionable straight from the fridge, while your boyfriend is next to you asking what you want to watch.

And you’re both wondering if you’re doing this whole life thing correctly.

Maybe that’s okay. Because we’re learning, we’re building something, we’re creating a little life of our own. And maybe that’s what moving out really is. Not just leaving somewhere.

But slowly creating somewhere that feels like home.

A place filled with our things, our routines, our arguments over stupid things, our laughter, our quiet nights, our plans, our mistakes, and all the little moments that probably don’t seem important now but one day we’ll look back on and miss.

Maybe we don’t have everything figured out.

But we’re here.

We’re together.

We’re building a life.

And for now, I think that’s more than enough.

— C. ☾