Share a story about the furthest you’ve ever traveled from home.
It was an emotional moment for me when I left home for the first time. I didn’t know I would even shed a tear or two but surprisingly I did. I had to move out not because I had to join some college, 2000 km away from home. But because I had to grow up, and staying closer to home could only take me so far as a person.
No, I don’t mean to say home is not enough. I mean to say home is never enough to grow, to flourish, to thrive, to learn, to fly. You need to leave those four-walled concrete cages or in my case—a four-walled bamboo cage and the four people I thought were my entire world, to move out, to see the world for myself.
A world where the consequence of a single bad choice is much harsher than the mere beatings you got from your mother. Where life puts you on a pedestal but doesn’t provide the proper shoes to keep your feet from the pain that would last longer than you ever imagined. Where life actually begins to kick you to the curb.
And with all of this, you still cannot let a single sigh of yours affect the people you care for and love.
Yes, life begins when you move out. And it’s been one heck of a story for me to tell ever since that day.
diary_of_a_medstudent. 