I moved out of my parents house finally. At 26 years old.
don’t get me wrong, I got along with my parents well enough but I am happy to move out. Moving out of my parents house almost feels like winning the jackpot.
its not to say I have endless freedoms. I still have to work to live. But living alone is very freeing. I come from a Caribbean household and Caribbean households tend to be very chaotic and noisy. And there is little to no privacy. In Caribbean households, being a family means you shouldn’t mind changing your clothes in front of each other. Which is something I absolutely hate.
there is a lot out there that live with their parents even in their late 30s.
why do you stay with your parents and how do you do it ?
even if you get along with your parents, living with your parents means you can’t do whatever you feel like doing. You get interrupted, either because they ask you to do chores, something needs to be done in the house even tho there is seemingly nothing to do, or they interrupt you to give you shit about one small thing you did wrong or didn’t do. They nag about one little food stains that’s barely visible. They find the smallest most trivial thing to give you shit and lecture you about. One little small mistake turns into a whole lecture.
you operate on their schedules. You have dinner when they have dinner, you go grocery shopping when they go grocery shopping.
and even if they don’t straight up tell you to be home at a certain time when you go out with friends or else, indirectly they force you to come home. You might go out and they tell you that something in the house needs to be done and ask you if you gonna be home late so you feel compelled to have time limits and not come home too late.
meanwhile me now. I live alone. Out of work, I sleep when I want, if I want, I take 2 AM showers, I eat from the pot, rip out the angriest farts possible, burp loudly and crassly, when I cook I add however much seasonings I want to add because I have no other tastebuds to consider. I don’t have to share my food, I can be a lazy slob and nobody is there to give me shit. I can make a mess, forget to put the jar of Nutella back where it belongs and it’s not a big deal. I can go to sleep with dirty dishes in the sink and it’s not a big deal.
I can come home when I feel like it. Overhaul I can be as crass as I want. I can be as poorly mannered as I want to be.
basically beyond work, I have little to no responsibilities.