Returning Home from Uni and Realising You're Still a Child

Based on the title and the previous photo you're probably confused as to how they correlate, but it will soon become clear.

I have just completed my first year at the University of Nottingham, and, because I live in London, I resided in Halls for the academic year. Prior to this I had never lived away from home for a substantial period of time, thus I was naive to the endless possibilities that came with living alone. However, once I started University I tasted absolute freedom, autonomy, and responsibility. Fundamentally, I experienced a fraction of adulthood.

Now, having returned home for the summer, I have uncovered the faux bubble that is "living away at University." In reality, I live at home, where my mum mostly cooks dinner, and I have to report the exact location of my whereabouts at all times if I'm not in the house. To be honest, when I first came back home, I was excited to not have to cook for myself or go food shopping (which is the most banal task), and I did miss my family. Nonetheless, after approximately six weeks, I was ready to return to Uni. The freedom I had experienced made my home life seem more restricted than it ever was. I must point out that, in comparison to other parents, mine are quite lenient and very trusting of me—but, I've realised that when I am not at Uni, my parents still tend to treat me like a "child."

The photo above is of my cat, Sadie, who was gifted to me by my parents on my 15th birthday, which was four years ago. Three days after returning home, I was feeding her, and my dad happened to be in the kitchen. As I poured her crunchies onto the plate my dad exclaimed

"Olivia that's too much! She doesn't eat a lot in the summer."

At this point, I chose to say nothing. However, having lived with Sadie for the past four years, I think I know how to feed her and how much food to give her. Since then, my dad has proceeded to do this six times. (It's as if he waits in the kitchen to criticise how I feed her.) Now, of course I know this is not truly impeding on my day-to-day life. But, living at University highlighted how much my parents love telling me what to do, despite me having lived alone and survived.

Moreover, a few weekends ago I was heading to our nearby high street quite early in the morning. I assumed my parents were asleep so I messaged on our family group chat (in the eyes of my mum, it is a crime to leave this group chat, which we discovered when my sister left after an argument and was immediately added back, and forced to stay). Yet, clearly, my dad heard the front door shut and saw me leaving from their bedroom window. Despite having messaged, my phone began to ring and I knew it would be him. So, I picked up and simply stated

"I'm going to the high street, I messaged on the chat."

After that, I sort of felt rude. But, I had messaged and he didn't need to call me. Before living away, this probably wouldn't have been so annoying— however, when I'm at Nottingham I can leave the house and not even tell anyone. Yet, I do understand why my parents are protective—they want me to safe feel safe, etc.—but it's still annoying.

Furthermore, my parents often tell my sister and me to hoover, clean, wash up, etc. Yet, based on our homes at Uni we are both incredibly tidy and clean, so in reality, we are just cleaning up our parents' mess, which grinds on the both of us. Clearly, these are small annoyances, but when I'm at Nottingham I choose when to hoover, I don't need someone to tell me when to do it. I can see dirt!

Although, I guarantee that towards the last few weeks of Uni next year I'll be excited to come home, only to realise the same thing will happen again. It's a vicious cycle—but, I kind of enjoy getting to live both independently and with my parents who I sometimes miss.