Every year in the United States, over 40% of new college students move away from home. I never really questioned this much growing up, seeing college as the natural path to follow, even if it entailed moving.

As the oldest in my close-knit Italian American family, however, I admit that when it finally came time for me to leave, it felt like somewhat of a betrayal. And I am beginning to understand why. 

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According to a recent study done by the Pew Research Center, young adults in the U.S. are far less likely to live with their parents than those in nearly any European country. Americans were also more likely to deem living with one’s parents a bad thing. The cultural difference is prevalent in many other parts of the world as well; in the Middle East and North Africa, it’s widely “customary for young adults to live with their family until marriage.” In China, many families choose to live in cross-generational homes. 

While moving out by 18 is not objectively harmful, and certainly in some situations is even beneficial or preferred, I think it’s interesting how such a practice underlines the U.S.’s overtly individualistic, capitalistic persona. The stigma of living with one’s parents at a certain age —despite the fact that our current economy increasingly necessitates it — reeks of our infatuation with material success. There are enriching forms of success other than those achieved on one’s own. Perhaps coming from such a close community has helped teach me that. 

Though going away to college at 18 is a natural rite of passage for many, it was also unheard of in my family until I graduated high school. Save for the exception of my paternal grandparents moving to the U.S. in their 30s from Italy (who did so out of economic necessity), it is not seen as a custom to leave one’s family or one’s community. As the oldest in my family, and the first of my brothers and cousins to apply for college, I was the first to move away or to even consider it — the first to have to say that there was a life elsewhere that I wanted to pursue. 

My parents and grandparents have deep roots in our small town. Everyone knows each other. If I run into someone familiar on the street, more often than not, it turns out we are related. When I told my grandparents I would be moving to Los Angeles, they were proud and supportive but also unmistakably confused, asking me why I don’t just go to the community college down the street, the same one they went to — the same one everyone they know went to. 

In Sicily, my relatives look at me perplexed when they learn I live in a different city than my parents. Living in the same house one’s entire life is normal there, and I sometimes can’t help thinking I have somehow betrayed those I love most. I asked my cousin once if she had ever considered moving. She replied simply, “No. Everyone I love is here.” I admit I understood what she meant. 

There is a certain comfort that lies in being somewhere where everyone knows you and always has. There is a certain comfort in what is familiar and loving. Though I did choose to branch out on my own and live in L.A. — a place I am likely to remain even after graduating, I still resent the idea that living at home is somehow indicative of a lack of ambition. Sometimes, it has simply to do with a respect for tradition or an abundance of love. 

As someone who is overwhelmed by sporadic spells of homesickness, I admit that contextualizing my feelings against the backdrop of my cultural values has made me feel tremendously validated. I recognize that the opportunity to move away from home is a privilege — and a decision that was entirely my own — but I also recognize the ways in which American culture or a certain hustle mentality can be alienating. 

It’s important to do what’s best for yourself, to carve your own path, but I also think it’s important to honor your loved ones and stay true to your values. These two ideas don’t have to be contradictions. 

I am grateful to be at USC and excited for what my future may hold. I also make sure to call my family often and look forward to my next trip home. Both of these can exist in my heart without undermining the other.