Not quite flying the nest

I’m just over four months away from turning thirty and I’m still living at home with my parents. Tomorrow my fiance and I are nine years together. As you know we’re saving for a mortgage and we know that renting is just dead money and we’d have no hope of saving for a deposit if we were shelling out over €1,000 per month on rent. No matter how many times people tell me that living at home at my age is normal these days due to the disaster that is the housing market, I still feel like a freeloader. I pay my parents rent, of course, but it doesn’t ease my discomfort.

Perhaps it’s society’s view on how people my age should be living, or that I’m surrounded by people my age who are buying houses, getting married and having babies. My fiance and I are on the brink of getting a basic mortgage (enough for a decent-ish house), but there may be something that will delay us which I can’t mention just yet, and I could end up extending my stay under my parents’ roof. Isn’t there a taboo surrounding people who still live with their parents?

For some reason, I look back to my ex-best friend, who is married and I imagine him laughing at me when he sees my current situation. I know this is the last thing I should be worried about but these are the thoughts running through my head these past few days. I meet trouble halfway, but I know no other way of dealing with these types of situations.


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