In the country where I live, young people tend to visit their parents regularly after they go to university. It could be called “going home” than “visiting” because those students who go home every weekend keep themselves attached to their home town until they, for example, graduate or marry. This attachment has to do with the way children are taught. If the parents and children are very close, they are likely to keep in touch for a long time.
I am not that close to may parents, and, honestly, I do not like “going home”. Over the past few years, I have noticed that the number of the visits to the parent has decreased noticeably. Moreover, I do not enjoy the stay as much as I did a few years ago. I know that the house I go to is the place where I grew up, the place where some many things happened. Even though I miss my family and would like to, for example, have more conversations or be together, I somewhat feel annoyed when I get back.
Many years I have been doing things I had to do because I was obliged to do so. Now I want to live the life which is only MINE. The one that cannot be controlled by anyone but me. I love my family members but why do I want to avoid being with them?