What it’s Like Moving Back Home

The Coronavirus pandemic has caused many changes around the world. Many people had to move back into their childhood homes in order to social distance; I was one of them. When the pandemic hit, my college made everyone leave campus months early in an effort to stop the spread of the virus.

I was ending my freshman year at college, so I was only away for a year. I lived close, so my parents often made me come home on weekends, but the rest of the time I was able to do my own thing.

A few weeks into the start of the school year, I moved in with my boyfriend, who lived off-campus. Because I didn’t drive, he’d take me to class whenever was necessary, and the rest of the time we’d spend together.

My parents are strict, and had no idea I was living with my boyfriend; they thought I saw him a few days a week and thought that was too much as is. For us, however, we had no problems living together and seeing each other 24/7, in fact, it made us a stronger couple earlier.

When my university told everyone to leave, I couldn’t tell my parents I wanted to stay with my boyfriend, so I had to move back home until school resumes in the fall. I packed all my stuff up and moved it back into the room I had been in for the last 19 years.

While in college, I had gained a lot of independence and was able to do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. This was not the case when I moved back home. Although my parents told me I would have freedom to do as I please when I first moved back, that never happened. I hang out with my boyfriend almost every weekday for around 5 hours, and although they let it occur, they aren’t happy about it. They act insanely petty that I want to spend more time with him than them. If I say I don’t want to go to a store with them, they yell at me and call me a brat. If I want to go out with anyone, they have to know with who, when I’ll be leaving, when I’ll be returning, and where I’m going. I can’t be out late at night, and can’t leave late at night. I can’t drink alcohol or smoke nicotine near them unless I want to get in a huge amount of trouble. If my room isn’t clean, I get yelled at. If my hair has knots in it, I get yelled at. If I don’t do what they want or expect from me, I essentially get yelled at.

Although I should expect this behavior after living there all my life, it was a sudden change from my year in college where I could do what I like. I had assumed when I returned home I would be treated as an adult, but that didn’t happen. We all fell back into old patterns. The first few weeks back I kept my room cleaned, I washed dishes, and I made meals, all things I did in school. They let me go out without any pettiness and didn’t force me to do things I didn’t want to. After those first couple weeks, however, we fell back into life before college. I stopped cooking and cleaning, and they stopped letting me be. Nothing was cause and effect, just simple old habits. It is extremely frustrating when I want to be my own person and they don’t let it. If I did all these things in college, and will do them again when I return, what’s the difference if I do them now? I’m not asking to go do illegal activities or leave home and not say a word for 2 weeks, just some simple freedom would be nice. And no 24/7 yelling about things that don’t matter.

Moving back home has been stressful, and had an impact on my mental health. Since returning home, my on-off depression came out in full bloom, and I tried to kill myself twice. I wish things would be better living at home, but they are not. I feel bad because they do truly care about me and love me, but it’s suffocating. I have my own life to live now, and although I want them to be a part of it, I do not want them to be my entire life and control it as if I’m 12 years old again.