For never having lived away from home, my boyfriend and I are doing quite well. We cook our own dinner, shop for groceries, pay our bills, both have full-time jobs and can still go out and have fun from time-to-time. We both have busy schedules not leaving us time for a lot to do, but it wasn't always like that.
My boyfriend and I have been together for a little over a year and a half and it wasn't until we'd hit the year mark that I was asked to live with him and his parents. The original plan was to move into an apartment together, but when we found out his job and mine wasn't secure, we couldn't go through with it. So, if I really wanted to live with him, the only option he could provide was to live with him and his folks. I thought about it for a long time because it wasn't an easy decision.
I mean, I was living at my house, which was 5 minutes from my work, so if I moved to his, it would take me 35 instead. Also, I would have to spend some extra money on groceries while he gave his parents rent. I wanted to move out, but I was rather frustrated that it couldn't be in an apartment. Regardless, I made the decision and it would exceptionally well. We got to know more about each other and we rarely saw his parents, so things worked out for the best.
I lived with them for 4 months until my boyfriend was presented with a job opportunity in Tennessee. He had 3 interviews before they told him he obtained the job. And, since I was miserable and frustrated that I wasn't able to find a job in our area, I went with him.
The beginning was rough for me simply because I've never lived away from home. I spent the first week yearning for my parents and wanting to be surrounded by familiar faces. My parents texted me every single day to check on me and I often missed them and thought about going back, but I didn't. I knew I could do it and finally be out of my own. After about 2 months, I finally settled and felt fine. I mean, sure I miss them, but I don't feel as depressed as I felt when I first arrived.