I had quite a few different titles in my head for this post. Things like…. Have I failed? Two steps backwards to move forwards. Adulting is hard. Nearly 30 and starting again…things like that.
All the options were things that have gone through my head and in some ways make sense to the action I’m going to take. There are big changes ahead for me indeed. So the Cliff Notes version is: I’m moving back home with my parents. Yep.
I’ll start from the beginning. Towards the end of last year I was feeling really fed up, mainly with my job. As I’ve said before, I just wasn’t feeling that it was something I wanted to do for the foreseeable future. I was coasting along, getting my job done but getting more and more down. I was spending a good portion of my life at work but living for the weekends when I could do what I actually wanted to do. Not to mention the draining, long commute there and back every day.
I had no desire or ambition. Gone was the girl who left university ready to take on the world. Instead I was dreaming of the holidays and marathons I could run and justifying the rest of my time, where I was sad and bored, as a way to fund the more fun times in my life. So what my job wasn’t my passion? I could afford to go on cool holidays, go out for dinner all the time and buy unlimited pairs of leggings. I was living the dream.
But no I wasn’t. And it soon became very clear that the benefit of the solid paycheck wasn’t enough to keep me from sinking into a despondent, unmotivated and sad person. A few holidays a year doesn’t make up for the fact that the majority of my week I was spent unhappy.
So earlier this year I decided to look for another job that would be more in line with what I wanted to do. Something I had a genuine interest in. Having spent a good portion of my career in a quite different field, however, I quickly realised I had very limited experience. Searching for a job with a similar salary was laughable. I hadn’t a chance in hell. So I started looking for jobs from the bottom up. Grass roots’ positions where I could learn and hopefully work my way up. And this was obviously going to be reflected in the pay.
And so I took that pay cut. I could carry on living in my flat with my new job but I would be living hand to mouth every month, and that makes me very nervous. Yes I have savings behind me but I want them to remain there and not be eaten into if I fancy going on holiday or splurging on a trip.
Instead, after long chats with my parents and careful consideration, I decided the best decision would be to rent out my flat and move back home. Long story short, I’ll be moving in September (hopefully) and the money I’ll save will basically bump up my earnings back to a happy place.
I’m obviously extremely grateful to have parents that are so supportive and willing to have me come back home (*cough* my mum is ecstatic). As you’re probably aware, I have a very good relationship with both my parents so hopefully it won’t be a painful experience for anyone. I’ll have my space, they’ll have theirs.
Alfie will obviously be joining me (again, my mum is ecstatic). My parents already have three dogs and he gets on fine with them (though he’ll still sleep with me as he always does when I stay over). It also gives me a bit of freedom (ironically) because I don’t have to rush home all the time to make sure Alfie isn’t alone for too long. My parents have a lovely garden and he’ll be well looked after if I decide to go on a date, a spontaneous work thing or stay out late with friends.
So, a big change for me. For how long, I don’t know…
Have you ever moved back home with your parents?
Would you ever consider something like this?
Do you get on with your parents?