At 16.  I got married.  Life was pretty exciting from that moment on.

Probably not exactly what you were asking for, but....

Mine was more of a slow ease into freedom.  I started riding my bike to and from school in the 6th grade.  It was a 10 minute car drive, so I'd say it's about 5 miles.  On real bad days someone would give me a ride.  By my 8th grade I was riding my bike 10 to 15 miles to visit friends, go the mall, movies, etc.   My parents loved taking little weekend trips.  With my brother being 8 years older they were off a lot when I was in junior high, once I got into highshool my brother moved away to college.  I was 13 to 14 as a freshman, home alone... with $20 to afford a pizza delivery, and open bottles of all the major brands of alcohol.  Probably why I still don't drink, my folks never told me not to.  A 30.06 rifle in the closet, a shotgun, 3 other rifles and a 44 revolver in the unlocked gun cabinet, a .25 auto usually in the old mans sock drawer, and an ak-47 with 2 loaded mags that would move around when I wasn't home, but I would always stumble upon it .  Most parents don't feel safe letting their kids past the frontyard anymore.  Keep no alcohol out where they can get it... and damn if you can keep a firearm where a kid can get to it if needed.  

At 15 years old I hitchhiked a 16 year old runaway girl back to her parents
in Wi. She called her brother when we got there and the cops showed up.
They put me in jail until the parents showed up to collect her, and they praised the
shit out of me for bringing their baby home. So the cops thought I wasn't such a bad
kid an dropped me off on a freeway ramp at 6:00am after a jail house breakfast.

All I had to do was explain to my perents why I missed school. "Went hitchen to Milwaukee!"
"oh, ok" I had alot of freedom when I was young.

My first day of 1st Grade, my mom didn't come and get me so I got scared and cried.  The funny thing is, I could SEE MY HOUSE from the door to my classroom, because I lived across the street!  Oh shit, did I just say that out loud?

ETA:  I am *slightly* more independent now that I'm almost 29 years old.  At least I buy my own underwear...

The day my dad handed me his Remington Nylon 66, a box of wildcat 22's and pointed over to the creek.
He said, "go ahead". It was the first time I was by "myself" with a gun and I usually was not supposed to go down to the creek by myself either. I still remember the feeling.  

I walked to school in first and second grade - it was about a mile and a half (and yet, it was uphill ).


When I was in sixth grade, I got hit by a car on my bike when I was riding to school.  Since nothing was broken - just some scalp bleeding and brusing - I just went to class and told my mom about it when I got home.  (In retrospect, I probably had at least a mild concussion)

I'm 16 and a junior with my last class period an "out" class. Getting to leave everyday an hour before my friends is pretty sweet. Taking high school-credit classes in 8th grade really paid off...

I'm feeling pretty damn independent at the moment, working after school to pay for my truck, insurance, gas and whatever else I might need to pay for. Yeah, I know, not much but compared to the rest of my life 'til this point it's freedom. Basically can do whatever I want as long as I keep the grades running high.

...and open bottles of all the major brands of alcohol. Probably why I still don't drink, my folks never told me not to. A 30.06 rifle in the closet, a shotgun, 3 other...

Eggs-actly! I'm always alone at the house with basically the means to do whatever I want to. Never been one to get drunk and guns don't scream at me to shoot people. I've had the combo to the pistol safe since I was 13 and since last year sometime my dad decided I should keep the .45 in my nightstand just in case.

Never. I'm a Sheeple. I look to Mommy and Daddy government to fulfull all my wants and desires.

Since I was 16,

got a job, supported myself,

been loving every minute since.

Quoted: When Was The First Time You Were On Your Own And Took Care Of Things...?

I've never really been "on my own"...

I went from my parents' home to a fraternity house (undergrad), back to my parents' house (first graduate degree), then into our first house (I didn't move out of my folks' house until I got married).

I just turned 38 a couple of weeks ago and I have never once lived alone... I do very well at "taking care of things," but I've never been what I would consider "on my own."

When I left for college.

Yet every once in a while I still call in "momma bear" when I get tired of dealing with crap at the university.  The way I see it, they're paying for part of my education, that gives them the right to bitch at times, both at me, AND at the university.  (although they usually end up bitching at me)

I guess for me It would be when I used to ride my bike. I live out here in a small town. I would ride for hours going no where in perticular and turn around. It felt good to get awy from it all, just to ride and let your mind wander. But that all came to a screeching hault one day, as a Jeep Cherokee slams into me. That was about 3-4 months ago. But now that I'm thinking about it its kinda like shooting. No worries just the sound of gunfure.Its also knida like hunting or fishing. Just chillen out, nothing to worry about. Thinking about my next post on ARFCOM. Man, I can't wait till squrriel season.

When I was 13 Dad and I went on a trip to Puerto Rico that he won from selling lots of RCA and Whirlpool products. Mom had been ill and decided to stay home. Anyway, we board planes, Britan Islanders IIRC and fly from PR to Saint Thomas in the Virgin Islands for a day trip. On the return trip pop and I were in different planes, we are both tall and each of us set beside the pilot because it was difficult to get in the back of the plane. When we left St. Thomas a storm was brewing,  a little better than half way between St. Thomas and PR dad's plane turned around and returned to St. Thomas for the night and sit out the storm. Our plane could not, we were low on fuel and had to make it to San Juan.
My plane landed on a empty tank of fuel after one of the worst thunderstorms I still have ever seen. I was scared shitless. I went through customs at 13 years old with 4 bottles of cheap rum and a fifth of Canadian Club. From there on to the Hotel...Cerromar Beach IIRC and a friend and I  had one heck of a party that night while dad was stuck in St. Thomas. I'll never forget that experience, or the hangover the next morning.

Danny

I was about 12. Boy Scout summer camp. A friend and I went fishing in a remote creek several miles out of the camp a couple of hours before sunset. I was having a good time, he was getting skunked so he packed up and went back to camp. I had the fever! Next thing I know, it's friggen' dark. Really dark. Can't see your hand in front of your face dark. I had a small pocket flashlight but the batteries were getting low. Stumbling around in the dark, swore that I knew the way back. WRONG! Kinda' panicked for a bit, I was REALLY lost. Okay, stop, calm down, get your bearings. Use your common sense. Ignore those glowing eyes, they're just raccoons. Yeah that's it, raccoons! Kept stumbling along, couldn't find any trails, cross country in very steep terrain at night. Disobeyed all of the rules about what to do when lost. But I WAS going back to camp! I HAD to make it! I saw a LOT of glowing eyes, heard LOTS of  strange noises. But I was determined to make it.

I cannot describe the feeling of relief that I felt when I saw the distant glow of camp. Stopped to catch my breath, brushed myself off. Entered camp really cool and calm. They wondered where I had been. "Oh, just fishing, then looking for 'coons. You shoulda' stayed with me!". Nobody asked why I was so filthy and sweaty.

I learned a lot about myself that night.

Left home at 16.  

The age I would be if it could last forever. "8" what an easy going age. Turned loose with a Savage .22LR/20GA O/U and the best dog a kid could ask for. I could spend all day in the woods hunting and fishing with no one to answer to accept your bellyif you didn't fill it with fish and berries...(never saw a game warden)....Then school started again...Returning to school after the Summer ran out was like death over and over! I think I spent more time fishing/hunting than going to school?

Another experience of "On your own?" was my first car. I bought it in Texas and at 16 drove it back to Washington State. Probably nothing for kids these days, but back then it was a real experience.

MT

Thanks for sharing!

I joined the Air Force at 17. Didn't have much choice but to be on my own then... Got to my first duty station, called my fiancee of about 2 years and we got married 6 months later... That was 15+ years ago.

I didn't have parents so to speak.

When Was The First Time You Were On Your Own And Took Care Of Things...?  


I thought this was going to be a thread about masturbation...

When I was 16 I started going to classes at a community college. Since no one took attendance, and I had my own truck and money. I could do whatever I damn well pleased.

I am sure I did otehr stuff before that, but that was a big thing for me.

I was seven . My step father busted down the door myself ,my grandmother, and my mother where hiding behind . He charged into the room and grabbed my mother by the throat saying he was going to kill her . I ran up and punched him square in the nuts . He dropped my mother picked me up by neck and threw me through the window . He grabbed my mother again as I stood up outside and said "Let her go right now I will kill you you mother fucker . " He looked at me and blinked and let her go and backed out of the room and left the house . That was the last time I saw him .

At my school all the first graders on up walked or rode bikes, usually several blocks.  I walked to kindergarten and to the babysitter afterwards.

First big freedom rush I noticed was driving on my own.

Quoted: Quoted: I was seven . My step father busted down the door myself ,my grandmother, and my mother where hiding behind . He charged into the room and grabbed my mother by the throat saying he was going to kill her . I ran up and punched him square in the nuts . He dropped my mother picked me up by neck and threw me through the window . He grabbed my mother again as I stood up outside and said "Let her go right now I will kill you you mother fucker . " He looked at me and blinked and let her go and backed out of the room and left the house . That was the last time I saw him . You are a brave individual.  Thanks for sharing that.

It wasn't bravery . It was just not taking it anymore . Two years before I watched my real dad stab my mom and cut her face up big time . I crawled under the couch and cried like a little bitch . Two years later when I saw that look in Tom's eyes I knew it was going to be I will kill him or he will kill us all .

Quoted: Quoted: I was seven . My step father busted down the door myself ,my grandmother, and my mother where hiding behind . He charged into the room and grabbed my mother by the throat saying he was going to kill her . I ran up and punched him square in the nuts . He dropped my mother picked me up by neck and threw me through the window . He grabbed my mother again as I stood up outside and said "Let her go right now I will kill you you mother fucker . " He looked at me and blinked and let her go and backed out of the room and left the house . That was the last time I saw him . Goddamn, I thought I had some rough spots growing up. On the plus side at least you never saw him again. Can you imagine having that miserable fuck in your life to complicate shit along the way.

No actually I couldn't . I would have ended up a Colmbine kid for sure .

Quoted: I beg to differ. It sounds as if you were one brave SOB. And thank you again for trusting us with your personal life. My very best wishes to you.

I guess th best way to explain that is that I have always felt that I am not proud of all of the things I have done in my life , but I still take pride in the fact that the shaped who I am . As for shareing stuff about my child hood , people here share things a lot worse than what I just talked about .

Quoted: Quoted: Quoted: I was seven . My step father busted down the door myself ,my grandmother, and my mother where hiding behind . He charged into the room and grabbed my mother by the throat saying he was going to kill her . I ran up and punched him square in the nuts . He dropped my mother picked me up by neck and threw me through the window . He grabbed my mother again as I stood up outside and said "Let her go right now I will kill you you mother fucker . " He looked at me and blinked and let her go and backed out of the room and left the house . That was the last time I saw him . Goddamn, I thought I had some rough spots growing up. On the plus side at least you never saw him again. Can you imagine having that miserable fuck in your life to complicate shit along the way. No actually I couldn't . I would have ended up a Colmbine kid for sure . Quoted: I beg to differ. It sounds as if you were one brave SOB. And thank you again for trusting us with your personal life. My very best wishes to you. I guess th best way to explain that is that I have always felt that I am not proud of all of the things I have done in my life , but I still take pride in the fact that the shaped who I am . As for shareing stuff about my child hood , people here share things a lot worse than what I just talked about .

You were the bravest 7 year old I've ever read about.  Long distance hand-shake to ya.

I think I had too much responsibility was forced upon me way too early.  I'm probably one of the most responsible people I know - some people tell me I'm too anal.  My dad traveled, so I had to do all the stuff around the house during the week that normal dads do.  At age 10, I started going to work with my grandpa - we hung aluminum doors and windows at residences.  He did all the second story and the doors.  I did the first story windows, cleaned up all the trash, then helped him finish the doors if he needed it.  We were pretty fast.  If not that, I got farmed out to my uncle's electric shop in Missouri for the summer.  

I lived just outside the burbs where folks had more money than we did.  We weren't poor, but they had more.  Parents bought or helped to buy their kids cars when they were 16.  My parents wouldn't due to money and they didn't want me to have a car.  I had saved my money from the summers, so I bought my own.  They were pissed, and would find reasons to take the keys from me.  That just made me more independent. I worked half the day as a senior in high school - got a job in a machine shop.  Then came back to school in the afternoon for baseball.  One time, I was short on a $32 insurance payment.  I wasn't short much, but my parents wouldn't lend me the money until I got paid - had to park my car until payday.    

Guess the first time I really took care of business was as a Freshman in high school.  I was a big kid and a damn good catcher (still play to this day - note avatar).  As a Freshman, I made the Varsity baseball team as the first string catcher.  After that was announced, two seniors - one guy was the first string catcher until I showed up - cornered me in the locker room and semi-beat me.  They told me I was gonna quit the baseball team.  I was as big as them, but remember I was a Freshman and they were Seniors.  And I went to school in a different bldg.  I still remember their names.  I puked right there on the floor and had some bruises on my ribs.  I told the coach - Chuck Nurek - and he blew it off - you know, "Fucking whiney Freshman."  I told my mother, and she said we would talk about it when my dad got home on Friday.  There was no way I was gonna quit the team, so I planned my attack. Two days later, I walked by the other catcher - he was sitting on the locker room bench, wearing only jeans and drying his hair.  I walked by him with a bat and slammed it down on his foot.  Knocked off two toenails and broke that fucker bigger than shit.  He was gone for the year.  Butt Fuck Nurek came running out and said I was in deep shit.  Long story short, the other catcher's dad called my dad, wanting him to pay the medical bills.  My dad said either we drop this whole thing and forget it, or we are suing you and the other guy for ganging up on me.  I went to the doctor the day I crushed that guy's foot, and the doc took pictures of my bruised gut and ribs.  

Sometimes I wish we could still take care of business like that...

To this day, I cannot tolerate fucking bullies.

Quoted: At 16.  I got married.  Life was pretty exciting from that moment on.

That is so Hillbilly.