Why Moving Back Home After University Is Utterly Painful

Have you moved back home after University and found it utterly painful? If so, when you were a student you probably really found your independence because you had your own life, your own washing to do, your own food shopping and then as soon as you graduated and had that amazing day of accomplishment you were back to square one.

Living back with your parents, being cooked for even though you’d offer to do it and just losing that sense of freedom. As much as you love your mum and dad, them nagging you to to wipe down the shower after every use or do the dishes as soon as you’ve taken your last bite of food isn’t what you had in mind now you’re in over £50,000 worth of debt, is it?

This article is going to outline why it is so utterly painful to move back home after university after having those three to four years of absolute bliss.

Let Me Cook

After moving back home, you spend days stressing all day applying for those many graduate jobs that you never ever feel good enough for and you end up getting a bit peckish. Unlike when you’re at uni you could go downstairs and go in that tiny, dingy kitchen and cook a feast if you wanted, your mum has planned your food for the week; salad, salad and more salad.

So, no longer can you eat what you want unless you do your own shopping which let’s be honest, you can’t afford for the life of you.

Is Being In Your Room Such A Crime

Your mum is watching some rubbish television programme that you can only describe as an awful version of Eastenders… If it gets much worse than that and your dad is just sat on his laptop ordering god knows what. So you chill in your room, watching some Netflix and reminiscing with your uni housemates about the good old days on Facebook Messenger and then one of your parents barges in and gives you some lecture on how you never spend time downstairs with your family.

Maybe you don’t just want to sit down there in silence hating your life. I bet you’re not the only one who misses doing whatever the hell you want.

Those Drunken Stories Are A Distant Memory

Now you’ve moved back home, you don’t miss the dreadful hangovers that left everyone in your uni house wondering if you were dead but it’s from one extreme to the other and it pains you that you can’t remember the last time you were chugging down a Jagerbomb.

Those great days of pre’ing with your course-mates and losing at Prosecco Pong are in fact, long gone and you’re just waiting for the day you’re all re-united for another crazy night.

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Most of you probably got up to all-sorts of cheeky shenanigans when you had your own place; bringing someone back with you after the uni social or even your partner and the best thing was nobody was going to judge you. You could be as loud as you wanted but none of your housemates would care, they might just have a bit of banter next time they saw you which would still make it worth it.

However, now you’ve moved back home and you have someone over, your mum just constantly knocks on your bedroom door every five seconds and you are patiently waiting until she has to walk the dog or do a shop run.

Take Away? Maybe Not

Remember when you couldn’t be bothered to cook so you and your lazy housemates would cave and order a Domino’s… Those were the days being chubby slobs stuffing your faces with pizza whilst watching rubbish TV.

Now, your mum looks at you in disgust when you even mention the words take-away because “That’s a waste of money” or “There’s a cottage pie in the fridge that’s going to go out of date today”…Yum.