Does Moving Back Home Mean You’ve Failed At Life?

This is a question I’ve toyed with for years. Is it ok to move in with your parents as an adult?

I actually moved back home twice in my twenties.

Once was after travelling Asia and Australia for a year and a half. I was 24 so it still felt acceptable, but I was home for 7 months before moving up to Milton Keynes with friends.

The second time was a couple of years later. I had spent that time living with my besties, having crazy parties and basically living the life. But I wanted to live alone next. I wanted to grow up a bit. I was struggling to find anywhere in my budget before I had to move out, so I moved back home with mum and dad to sort myself out. I was there for 6 months, and used the time to pay off all of my debts and save a rent deposit for my little 1 bed house. I was 27.

I admit during that second stint I did feel like a bit of a fuck-up. Because in your late twenties, you’re not really meant to be moving home again, are you? You’re meant to have your shit together, right?

Well, I have definitely attempted to do that ever since. Josh moved into the tiny house, we moved to a bigger place together in our favourite village, I worked on my career, got promoted, we got engaged and the most recent big life change, I’m now pregnant with our first child.

I mean that really sounds like I’ve got my shit together right? I’ve done alright. It’s a pretty good place to be when you’re 30 I think.

But the thing is, I’m currently in a bit of a monetary predicament.

Sure I make a good salary, I have a disposable income that allows me to book flights as I fancy and place the odd ASOS impulse order. But on maternity pay? Nah, it’s not really going to cut it, pal.

Y’see statutory maternity pay (SMP) is less than minimum wage. A lot less. So the reality is that even with Josh’s salary too, we can’t actually afford to pay our rent and bills. That’s before caring for a baby and having to pay for general life stuff.

I think the fact the SMP is so low is a bigger problem for another day so let’s just skirt around that for the moment.

What I really want to talk about is the fact that because of this lack of cash flow into our little family, Josh and I (and the bump) have decided to move in with my parents for a little while.

At age 30.

With a baby on the way.

This is not the situation of a person with their shit together.

I didn’t make this decision lightly. I thought it over quite a bit, and it makes the most logical sense. We’ll have plenty of space at my family’s house, we’ll have enough money to get by, as well as be able to finally start saving for a house deposit. And best of all, we’ll have some support throughout the late stages of pregnancy and the early days of having a baby. And that’s totally welcome because quite frankly I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing in that arena.

But it doesn’t sit well with me on another level. An emotional level, a spiritual level. Although it logically makes sense, I feel like a failure by moving home. I should be able to get by on my own in this world as a 30-year-old woman. Moving home means I haven’t been able to make it out there in the real world.

It doesn’t help that I pride myself on being independent. I loved that short time when I lived alone. I loved that I was solely dependant on running my house. And since then, I’ve loved the independence Josh and I have, being able to do what we want, when we want.

But we kinda of fucked it by never having savings I think. Shoulda, woulda, coulda and all that.

In older generations, you moved out at 18 and never went back. You got married and had kids young, you bought a house straight away on a 100% mortgage without a deposit. But millennials? I do feel like it’s something we do now. Moving home to be able to save for a deposit and buy a house seems to be the new normal. I know lots of people who did this in their twenties when I was busy spanking my money on city breaks to New York and new pairs of heels.

I think it’s just the age thing that makes me feel as though I’m failing. THIRTY. That’s an age I imagined as grown-up. And grown-ups don’t need to be bailed out.

I think the way I need to look at it is that in my twenties, moving home signified a new chapter. It was always the half way house on the way to the next stage of my life. And I guess that’s what it is now too. My parents are more than happy to have us (they’re very excited about their first grandchild) and it will mean a new chapter into family life when we eventually move out again and have our very own house.

I should also mention that I really get on with my parents and love living with them. It’s not as hard as I know other people find it. They will give us our own space and respect our privacy and not want anything from us. (And did I mention they have two adorable puppies I can play with all the time?!)

I think I just need to change the thinking in my head. This isn’t happening because I’ve failed. It’s happening because I want to improve my life for the future. It’s an opportunity, not a punishment.

What do you think? Is moving home a normal thing for millennials these days? Or have I fucked it?

Let me know in the comments or find me over on Twitter or Instagram for regular updates on my travels and life more generally.

* FYI photos in this post were taken at Hitchin Lavender – it’s so dreamy there!