I still live with my parents

I feel like this is something I need to get out of the way. I have spent some time thinking about whether I am ashamed of it or not, but I don’t think I am.

I’m in my mid-20s and I live with my parents.

I moved out to go to university. I am a capable human being. I do my own washing; I make my own food; I do most of the housework. I am not a twenty-something child.

My 16 year old self would be disappointed I had to go back home when I graduated, but I have a different perspective on it now. Returning home was supposed to be temporary; I got a job that paid relatively well and I started saving up so I could re-fledge the nest.

And then I got made redundant. And then I got ill.

HomeSo, I’m still here a few years later. Here’s the thing: I love my parents. I don’t think we have ever been as close as we currently are. And it’s frigging wonderful.

My grandfather passed away over a year ago, and it brought it all home to me. Parents don’t last forever. We would like to think they do (if you are fortunate enough to still have them), but they don’t.

I’m still independent – I have and pay for my own things, including a car and a poorly cat, and I run my own business. I’m building up a deposit for a house (I spent a lot of my savings on retraining after my redundancy).

I’ve got one eye on the future, but I’m going to make the most of life as it currently is. And I’m not ashamed of that.

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