IT HAPPENED TO ME: My Boyfriend and I Live With His Parents

My boyfriend and I were set to embark on our own lives until we were hit with the harsh reality that we're two broke bastards.
Publish date:
December 26, 2014
boyfriends, family, family drama, cohabitation

I scurry out of the shower in just a thong and T-shirt before I get caught. I'm halfway down the hallway to my boyfriend, Kevin's* room, when his father turns the corner and sees me. I stand there for a second frozen not knowing what to say or do. He awkwardly turns in the other direction and I run embarrassed into Kevin's room.

Welcome to my life!

My boyfriend and I were set to move out on November 25th. We carefully chose an apartment that was local to both our jobs so we wouldn't have long and daunting commutes. But, we'd move in on one condition: As long as he was offered a full-time contract. I prepared for our relocation and felt excited that living with him was within reach.

One day, he texted me and told him they offered him the contract, but this contract didn't give much detail about what it entailed, plus his managers were telling him one thing and then doing another.

Regardless, I began planning our future while he kept reminding me, "Don't get your hopes up." I wouldn't listen though and it screwed me over because in the end, his job was unstable and we couldn't risk him losing it. I was devastated, to say the least -- I'd wasted all my time and energy on what furniture and other household goodies to buy.

A week after he went to get the deposit back on the apartment, he presented the idea of moving in with him and his folks to save money and live together at the same time.

"You want to see me more and we're too broke to move out as of now, so why not?" he asked.

After a few weeks of thinking it over, I decided to take the leap and do it.

But, I feel absolutely pathetic. At 25 years old, I seriously thought I would be living on my own and fending for myself. I have to accept the inevitable: Kevin and I are just too damn broke to move out. Getting paid a mere $25K would only allow me to contribute about $400 because I have student loans to pay for along with my car. All of our money would be going to the apartment instead of living. We wouldn't be able to go out to eat a good meal or even go on vacation. We were stuck.

In terms of independence, we do have a little bit. Like, we shop for our own groceries, do our own laundry and cook our own dinners. But while I love his parents, I'd prefer it to be just the two of us.

We've been together for a year, so it's not like it's the very beginning of our relationship. I've been coming to and from his house for the last year, so his parents know me. They were cool with me moving in, but the problem that I have is not being able to just come home to Kevin. Whenever I have a bad day, I'd like to have a nice quiet dinner with Kevin and not have to deal with anyone else, but I can't because his folks sort of live there.

I want to have passionate sex and vocalize as loud as I want. Whenever we're doing the deed, I must cover my mouth so I don't make too much noise. I must be respectful, but that part really sucks because I can never truly let myself go.

Also, I want to be able to come out of the shower and not worry about his parents seeing me half-naked. I want to be able to come downstairs and grab a snack without someone seeing me and asking anything.

On week one of living with him, I came home from work to Kevin cooking our dinner in the kitchen. He wore a tight T-shirt that made his muscles bulge and jeans that made his ass look amazing. I was ready to make out with him and grope his penis because I felt so damn horny.

But, just then, as I was within reach of his package, his father walked in in his underwear. He said, "I told you you'd catch me in my underwear one day" and laughed. Instantly, I was turned off.

On week two, Kevin and his mom got into a shouting match about cleaning the bathroom. He said, "Mom, I'm 26 years old, I don't need to be told when to do the bathroom." His mom just sighed and walked away muttering under her breath. I sort of stood back and shrugged my shoulders.

Then, on another occasion Kevin began yelling at his dad about getting out of the kitchen while we cooked dinner (the kitchen is a bit narrow and there wasn't enough room for all of us to fit).

This is our life!

Two broke college grads trying to build up the funds to move out.

I took all these factors into account when I moved in, but I just need my space. I need to breathe and not constantly have people around. Like, can I have some peace and quiet?

My hope is that we'll build up enough funds to have our own place and no longer need to be under someone else's roof. Hopefully before I have a nervous breakdown.

*Names have been changed.