K and I have noted recently that the structure of the middle-class family in the U.S. has changed. Particularly, the expectations and desires of young adults today (which I’ll identify as anyone 18-30) are completely different from our generation. This stems from entirely different parenting styles than we experienced.
When we were growing up, it was the norm for parents to expect their kids to be out of the house and self-sufficient when they finished school, which could be high school (K), technical school (my brother), or college (me). Parents made it clear that after that, you were on your own. Although this frightened some of us (me, for one) a little bit, we did fantasize about having complete autonomy and living our lives on our own terms. But also, one was considered a complete failure if one lived at home much past the age of 21, and open to mockery.
The other reason many of us would rather starve than return home is to avoid the dysfunctionality that was our homes. Hell, we often moved thousands of miles away from our parents to ensure we had as little to do with them as possible while we forged our paths as adults. Paths, I may add, that were often stupid, naive, and reckless, but ours nonetheless.
This has clearly changed. I work with a 29-year-old who lives down the street at his parents’ lovely home. He is clearly not embarrassed in the least to be doing so. He has a girlfriend and she certainly doesn’t care that he doesn’t have his own pad. (The latter is especially bizarre to me; I could never imagine having sex in the vicinity of my parents when I was young. ) His parents evidently enjoy having him close by as well; they seem to spend a lot of time together.
That would have never happened our young adulthood. Our parents made it quite clear that once we were adults, we were to get out. Prior to that, when we were young, parents often said things like, “You’ll see what a pain it is to have kids when you grow up.” Statements like this clearly indicated to kids that 1. We were considered annoying 2. Our parents were hoping we would be as miserable as they when we grew up.
It’s funny now, since we didn’t have kids, that our parents probably don’t remember framing parenthood as a hellish, doomed state. They used to be perplexed and disappointed that we didn’t have kids; they’ve stopped communicating about it because they’ve given up the fight. They certainly didn’t make it seem like a good fate, and it never occurred to them that someone could opt out of the whole thing.
I’m sure the 29-year-old never heard these kind of statements, and was probably met with support and encouragement throughout his childhood. Many parents today go overboard in this respect by curtailing all criticism even if it’s constructive. However, it seems that being a cheerleading parent, for all its drawbacks, is better than a bitter, fucked up one. Which may explain why some adult kids today can live with their parents: their parents openly enjoy having them at home. It’s hard for me to even picture this, even though I can observe it myself.
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