"Mom, have you seen my new shirt? Dad can you please fix my window - it's jammed!" My parents - my heroes. They were just a door down the hall and never too far away. Whether it was repairing my window, or doing my laundry, my parents had been my backbone my whole life. As my spine curved toward adulthood and I hesitantly waved farewell to my teenage years, I was pressed with the grueling task of moving out on my own. Could I take my parents with me? No - moving out just wasn't about leaving behind the Barbie's and the frilly fuchsia bed spread, it was about growing my own backbone, even if I had to do it one vertebra at a time.
As I grew older I had to learn to be more artistic with my money. With the age of nineteen looming over my head, my parents would furnish me with the basics and food.
The lumbar region in regards to the rest of the sp...
Front view of vertebral column from Andrew Bell's ...
Front and side view of vertebral column fron Andre...I thought I might be prepared for life on my own, since I paid for a few clothes and luxury items here and there. But nothing prepares for how little money you have while living on your own; my bank account will never scream in frustration as it did in the first few unbalanced months in my new apartment. I no longer have money to buy the newest pair of shoes at Holt Renfrew and even my favourite white chocolate Starbuck's mochas are a thing of what went before. I have never had to bend my back so hard before as I do now. Leaving my parents (and their somewhat important bank account) has taught me to be fiscally graceful and that white chocolate mochas aren't that important anyway. Supporting myself unwilted my back and I soon felt my first few...