On February 25, 2024, I decided to move back home. My remaining parent had started showing the same signs that worried us about my dad before he passed. I knew it was the right thing to do, but I'd be capping if I said it was an easy decision.
You see, I was leaving a quiet little life I had grown to love: just me and my cat, in a space that finally felt like mine. And this might sound very Gen-Z, but living alone had been good for me. Like, really good. My mind was calmer. I could breathe.
Looking back on those two months I spent living alone, I'm honestly a little surprised by how strong I turned out to be. At first, the quiet felt so... loud, if that makes any sense. I wasn't used to it. Some nights I'd stay on the phone with my boyfriend for hours, literally until I fell asleep just so I didn't feel so alone.
Living
alone turned out to be this weird mix of learning and growing in ways I didn't expect. I still not exactly sure how I got used to it, but somehow, day by day, I started feeling a little braver.
I figured how to deal with the loneliness, how to cook real meals (not just instant noodles), and—this one I'm kinda proud of—how to defend both myself and the neighbor next door from a full-blown cockroach invasion.
The truth is: I'm actually terrified of roaches. Like, imma-jump-on-a-chair kinda scared. But one night, my neighbor who's even more scared than I am, knocked on my door, literally begging me to help her get rid of one. And in that moment, I felt like I had been chosen. I then walked into her room feeling like a superhero armed with a broom and a powerful spray.
Getting used to living alone was one thing, but horror content took more time. See, I used to watch horror movies during night skincare like it was nothing. But in the new place, even YouTube thumbnails were enough to mess with my sleep.
Funny enough, I eventually got over it. Now I can wake up at 3 a.m. for midnight prayer and a even squeeze in a quick workout, fully aware it's "ghost hour," and somehow not even flinching.
Living alone came with its own challenges, but it made me stronger. And moving back home felt right, but still, I'd miss the quiet, the space, and those slow, golden sunsets.
I also lowkey kinda worry about Nisa, my antisocial neighbor. She'd have to face the cockroaches alone now... and honestly, no one deserves that.
