After our wedding my husband and I decided it was time to stop with the “roommate thing” we got our own tiny apartment on the edge of the suburb where I’d (mostly) grown up. Like a salmon I had returned to my “home” to spawn. Except we didn’t spawn. We realized apartment life with two dogs is not ideal however it was about all we could afford on our measly little budget. So nearing the end of our lease we decided to move in with another couple who were our friends.
My father warned me against this. I generally listen to him because he has far more worldly experience than I do. This time I paused and considered and realized…My father had never had a roommate. Nor had my mother, my aunts, uncles, grandparents they’d all gone straight from their parents home into their own homes.
Since leaving my parents home (not by choice) at 18 I’ve lived in somewhere around 20 places and had god knows how many roommates. Seriously, I’m curious but I’m blogging from my parked car and have no way of even trying to count them. 60 maybe? Anyway, I figure I’m more capable of speaking with authority on the subject of cohabitation than my father is and I figure out will be ok.
Upon further reflection I’ve realized 80% of the people I know that are “my age” have had the same experience albeit to a lesser extent. Maybe it’s because we’re in a recession. I’m not really sure why but that is how it seems to be. Maybe it’s because we wanted out of our parents house and after college…we still weren’t married and very few people want too line alone. Your roommates may drive you crazy but they are like a temp family.
As I get closer and closer to child rearing age I’m starting to wonder…why couldn’t it just stay like this? After all: it takes a village.
The word of the day is: community.