Moving Back Home After College

In the back of my mind, I think I’ve always known I’d have to move back home after graduation.

Despite my desire to get an apartment of my own in a new city like New York or Chicago, I understood the realities of being in the journalism industry. With writers clinging to their jobs for dear life, entry-level reporting positions are few and far between. By the time graduation rolled around, I hadn’t found full-time work.

So I packed up my belongings, loaded them into my Honda CR-V and drove the 23 miles back to the house in which I grew up. My sleepy hometown is about halfway between Washington, D.C., and Baltimore – a great location for exploring career opportunities in both cities.

At first, it was difficult not reverting to my old, pre-college ways. Living in the same place I spent my winter and summer breaks had a way of tricking me into thinking that I should be in college-vacation mode. I slept in until 11 a.m. and accomplished nothing during my days. Netflix and the couch became my new best friends. I justified my behavior by telling myself I deserved time to unwind after studying, working and interning nonstop for four years.

I don’t know what changed my mind, but one day I decided it was time to take some action.

I broke out of that lazy cycle and started waking up at a time when “normal” people would get up for work. Now, I kick off my days with a workout at the gym, and then dive straight into submitting job applications and working on freelance assignments. When writer’s block inevitably hits, I make myself a cup of coffee or tea. If I’m particularly unmotivated, stretching and some jumping jacks usually propel me back to work.

Every day I make an effort to give back to my parents for the free room and board. I’ll load and unload the dishwasher, do laundry, run my parents’ errands, go grocery shopping, get the mail, roll in the trash and recycling bins, take care of my black Labrador retriever, Shana, and start cooking dinner in the evenings. Sometimes it’s the littlest things that remind them I appreciate their generosity.

When I’m out and about in my hometown (usually buying stuff I don’t need at Target), I actively try to avoid contact with anyone I knew in high school. Catching up with old teachers, classmates, friends, and their parents inevitably means a conversation in which I have to tell them that, no, I don’t have a job yet, thank you.

Being back in my hometown can often make me feel like a failure, like I’m moving backward instead of forward. When these feelings arise, I remind myself my situation is only temporary — a job will come around eventually, and I’ll move out.

Living at home with the parents does have its upside! I’m lucky; my parents don’t make me pay for rent, utilities, or even groceries. Affording those expenses on my freelancer’s budget would be impossible. I get to hang out with my Shana, whenever I’m home — something I missed deeply during my time in college. Best of all, I don’t have to share space with a random roommate. Living in one itty-bitty dorm with three other girls my freshman year tainted the idea of ever having roommates again.

One day when I move away from home to create my own professional life, I know I’ll be happy that I lived with my parents after college. When I’m on a long drive or even a flight away from seeing my family, I’ll wish I could just walk downstairs and watch TV with them.

So for the time being, I’m going to make the best of my situation. I’m going to cherish the carefree moments at home with my mom and dad.

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