I'm posting this on Mothering Sunday, so I should probably be writing a post about how incredible and amazing my mum is (and, in some ways, I am doing that) BUT since Mum doesn't read my blog I'm not going to do that. Instead I'd like to talk to you about what it's like living with people who aren't your family.
Like most 20 year olds, I spent the first 18/19 years of my life living with my parents (and little sister), and apart from the year and a half that we spent living with my grandparents whilst our house was being converted that's pretty much how it's always been. I went to uni in my home town, which sadly meant that I didn't get into halls as I lived too close. I was desperate to move out - not because I didn't love my family or where I lived, but because I wanted the freedom that all my uni-going friends were experiencing. At the start of second semester of first year, I latched on to a couple of friends I'd made and we decided we'd move in together for second year. Looking back, it was a pretty big risk. None of us had lived together before and we weren't all super close best buddies. Flash forward two years, and we're a pretty tight knit team. The people I live with are honestly some of the best people in my life, and I'm going miss them so much when we all have to part ways at the end of the semester.
Living with people who aren't your family is strange though. The house has different rhythms than the ones you've grown up with. Not only is the space different but the atmosphere changes. Uni living is messy, it's disorganised, it's cold (because who wants to spend money on heating). It's also spontaneous and dynamic and really really fun.
Coming home after time at uni is always a huge relief. Home is clean, home is safe, home is warm. But, having experienced both sides, I wouldn't swap out living away at uni for the world. The friends I live with are all incredible people and have made my uni experience.
It's soppy but it's true.