I know so many people who would cringe and run in terror from such a thought. Moving back home after being free and independent for so many years. What am I doing?
After having now lived at home, yes with my parents, for almost four weeks now I feel like I can reflect and give some thoughts on this now. These thoughts might change after months of living there (dare I say after a year? Long-term plans are semi-hazy right now). I haven’t lived at home since I finished university. From there I saved up (with my then partner) to buy a house and we moved out. It has been five or six years since I lived at home. A lot has changed.
Firstly, no my parents don’t make me dinner. I buy my own food and, like being at university, have my own fridge shelf and my own cupboards. I don’t eat their food (unless they’re not going to eat it before it goes-off) and they don’t eat mine (my food never goes off, I’m the queen of no waste ;)).
I have my own bedroom and my own bathroom. Yes, I’m very lucky to have parents who are a) so generous and b) privileged in their life (they both have and continue to work hard to earn this).
They also don’t do my laundry. Or clean my bedroom or bathroom (though they do have a cleaner that does the bathrooms…again, my parents both work and decided a while ago to spend money rather than time on these things). I maintain as much independence as I can. I tidy up after myself, I do jobs around the house, I look after their dogs and they look after Alfie.
It goes without saying that I’m very lucky to have parents that I get along with and who are very generous and accommodating. I will add though that my mum couldn’t be more pleased that I’m home. My dad is as well but my mum… another level.
During the week I don’t really see that much of them. Four days a week I’m out of the house before 6am to go to the gym and I get ready for work there and I eat my breakfast at the office.When I get home I walk Alfie and then make my dinner. If my parents are cooking dinner, I’ll wait until they finish as it’d be far too hectic and chaotic in the kitchen. This just means I wait for a convenient time to slot in. I don’t mind and try always to give my parents priority.
Then they head off and do what they do in an evening and I head off and do what I do in an evening. That might be me going somewhere with friends (far more easy now that Alfie has company) or chilling in the conservatory with YouTube, a TV programme or blogging etc. before I head to bed around 9ish (I get up ridiculously early).
At the weekend I’m usually off somewhere seeing friends, out running or something like that, but on the odd occasion I’m not doing anything it’s actually nice to potter around the house and have company. Or go on a walk with all the dogs. Don’t get me wrong, I loved living alone and I don’t mind my own company but it’s actually really nice to be around my family again…I’d ring my parents probably every day so to speak to them face-to-face, even just about how their day went, is really nice.
So I’m very happy right now. Obviously there will be bumps in the road ahead but so far things are great. The small voice in my head that tells me I’m a loser or that I’ve failed or wonders about what friends I went to school with think has quietened down. It’s still there and I still get embarrassed when I say “I live with my parents” but do you know what? I’m a million times more happy and if someone thinks that’s laughable or silly or pathetic then I don’t have time for them. Life is too short to sweat the small stuff and not be happy.
When did you last live at home?
Could you live with your parents again?
Do you like your own company?