It's not completely true that you can't ever go back. And that's a little frustrating to me.
I've returned home--to my parents' house--to stay for the next year or so while I work to pay off my undergraduate debt (thankfully, I owe only $2000.00. Not bad after four years, eh? Not that I'm not particularly frugal, though) and to save money to put towards an exchange to Siena and a post-graduate degree (I'm still undecided as to what that degree will be in. The perils of the combined honours programmes!)
Truly, I have come home. This house still feels like "home", and in so many ways, I'm thankful for that. Despite changing in all the ways that I have, this house still represents my sociological nexus.
Yet, I can't help feeling that for all my personal growth, I'll regress if I stay any longer than a few more months.
There are times that I feel that certain attitudes encroach upon my self-sufficiency, my very adulthood. Perhaps during those times I wasn't behaving particularly adult-like to begin with, though.
I'm willing to allow that charge to stand.
But I need other parties to allow my independence to stand, too.
Mutual respect. Compromise. If you're willing, I'm willing. I plan to be an adult about this house. You need to, too.