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I moved out at 19. I had been working full-time since I was 17 but shortly after turning 18, I got a good, stable federal government job. We lived in Maryland and the job was in Virginia. I got tired of commuting and I was financially secure. It was time to go.
Couldn't wait to get out. Not that I hated living there, I just wanted to live my own life. So I joined the Army when I was 19 and never moved back. I'm 32 now, married with kids.
Stayed home to go to Jr. College. 2 years later, graduated and got married. Husband and I moved in / stayed with Mom because she didn't want to be alone. A year later I got tired of that, wanted to be an adult and we moved on. Wasn't good at first, I didn't have any wisdom about being on my own. I soon learned. I was about 22 then.
I moved when I was 19. I had been working and paying rent from 18 until I moved. That was the rule: Pay rent when you turn 18, unless you are still in school. Back in 1983 I was paying $100 a month rent. My first apartment cost me $125 a month when I moved out.
I would have stayed longer but I took a job an hour and a half away.
It was time for me to go. Once I got my undergrad degree and found a good-paying job, it was time for me to make my own way in life. My mom didn't want me to leave because she misses cooking for me; my dad was cool with me leaving the nest because he raised me to stand on my own, but they always let me know I have a home to come back to.
I moved out when I was 18 for college. Yes, I spent a couple of summers home (generally I worked out of town during the summers), but I didn't really live permanently with my parents after graduating from high school.
I left home at 17 to start college. I never lived in my parents' home again after I left for college. I visited for a few days during holidays, but always less than a week. they raised me to embrace independence.
Last edited by texan2yankee; 10-08-2019 at 08:11 PM..
I moved out shortly after turning eighteen and moved in with my boyfriend (now husband for 19 years) and his friend. My home life was a mess. My mom was an alcoholic, my dad was an alcoholic, and I was butting heads with my mom a lot. It was time to get out of that craziness. I eventually lived at home again for less than a year, but by then my mom was no longer drinking, and things were calmer. However as soon as I got back on my feet again I was out of there.
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