I can't wait to move out of my parents house into a place of my own.
I love them, I love my parents very much and I enjoy most parts of our routine and daily life together; I just need more space and privacy.

The problem with this house is that my bedroom and theirs are very close, even with my door closed I can ear everything they say and, worse, they can hear me. I have no privacy. I don't feel comfortable enough to talk on the phone with my friends because my mother can — and makes sure to — hear my conversations so that she can later ask what it was all about.
Like every teenager

wait, am i still a teenager? i don't think so; maybe a teen, a young adult? i definitely do not feel like an adult yet — not a "complete" one, at least

Like every teenager there are some aspects of my life I keep hidden from my parents: I'm not talking about drugs or anything like that (even though I sometimes smoke pot or get drunk, but that's another story), I'm talking about relationships and gossip and discussions with my friends. My mother cannot know about these, especially because she is best friend with my best friend's mother, and they too gossip, and they meddle into our affairs.
I don't want my mother to meddle because I always end up feeling guilty about something. Hell! I even feel guilty about going out on Saturday nights because she doesn't sleep until I get back home.
And I know that's her motherly instinct. It's nice that she worries about me and I love her for that but I also end up thinking "god, it's getting late, I need to get back home because I don't want her to stay awake for too long, or she'll be tired tomorrow".
And for that same reason I often do not go out at all! during weekdays because she has to get up early (7ish) and I don't want to be the reason she gets tired.
But in doing so I end up missing out on so many nights! So many memories with my friends! But how can I resent her for caring about me?!

By living with my parents I am also putting off some hobbies I would like to take on.
I feel a strong desire to start baking, and cooking in general, but I can't. And I can't exercise at home. And I can't play music without wearing headphones — but all of this is actually on me, I'm shy and I'd hate to annoy them with too much trouble and noise.

Worst of all? I can't go out for a walk because we live in the suburbs of the suburbs, there's no place for me to walk/jog/run because there's only one street and it's the main one where cars pass by (too fast) and the sidewalk is too narrow, and there's too much smog.

I can't wait to move to a place where I can do whatever I please.
Yet, I'm more scared than excited at the thought of it — scared that I'll stay the same and realize the fault is not in my parents, nor my house, but in me.