Moving home...with your parents...at 30?!

Gotta do what you gotta do

I hope y’all enjoyed February’s “Love” themed stories. We’re fully in March and I want to introduce the theme we’ll be rocking with for the next few weeks: ✨blooming unconventionally✨

“Blooming unconventionally” is like the unofficial Carefree Mag motto. It is to glow and grow on our terms. It is to take the long, windy path, sometimes backward, sometimes sideways, but eventually some pattern of forward. It is to be a little (or a lot) alternative. A little (or a lot) quirky. But blooming, without a doubt, in our own unique ways.

For the next few weeks, we’ll be hearing stories from writers on the choices they’ve made and actions they took that may not have always been smiled upon, but led to immense blooming. I can’t wait to share these with you.

This Week’s Story

First up, we’re kicking this theme off with a story that has historically brought a lot of 30+ year-olds shame: moving back in with their parents. Ugh, how dreadful…right? This week’s writer, Shonnette Reed, proves that it can be far from it. As someone who has done this multiple times in life when I needed to my shit together, all I can say is, it is a privilege. Moving back home is not only a hack to making that coin stretch but also provides an opportunity to connect with your parents as an adult which may not have been possible when you were younger and dumber.

Enjoy.

Anayo Awuzie
EIC of Carefree

Moving Back Home at 30 Freed Me To Dream Again

by Shonette Reed

If you had told me that at 30 years old I’d move back home, I would have looked at you sideways. I knew what I wanted, and I set out to get it. 

By the end of my junior year, I knew that a few years out, I’d be married having started my career and enjoying it. A few more years and a baby would be in the picture. A couple of years after, and that baby would have a sibling. And with marriage and 2 kids, also at 30, I would have a stable income, on the way to stability in my career and setting out to become a homeowner.

And there I was at 29, with not much of what I planned having happened, knowing that something had to change.

I had been in Chicago since 2018 for graduate school and knew I wanted to work in publishing. Needless to say at 27, I left the Christian publishing job I had. I was heartbroken about having to make the decision because publishing was an industry I had worked so hard to break into. To finish my time in graduate school, I worked at a Christian radio station. It wasn’t something I wanted to do long-term, but I needed to support myself while I went through school. I would be able to transition out of this role by graduation day, not even giving a year of my time to a space that sucked the imagination out of me–or so I thought.. 

Then, the pandemic hit. No one knew what their next move would be. I felt stuck and uncertain. And more than that I was stuck in an environment that I knew that I could not bring my full, Black, self to. Year 28 came at the top of the pandemic and I had friends and colleagues who celebrated my birthday despite the world being shut down. Graduation came that May, and while I couldn’t walk the stage, I still found time to find the silver lining in a not-so-ideal situation.

By the end of 2020, I was set on a new position. I had watched hopes of other publishing jobs fade away as budgets were cut and many were cautious to have people sharing space in the office during something of this magnitude that we did not understand. I pressed on,  and landed a job I felt extremely optimistic about.  But as time went on working in my new position, I realized it was not the right space for me. After I left, the next thing was to figure out what was next for me—outside of others' judgment.  

I had worked so hard to be financially independent. I had my own place. I could pay for things comfortably and still afford to go out within reason. I was living the life I had worked for and nothing felt right. Even when I tried to push past the feeling, misalignment made itself known. 

Even when it wasn’t my voice trying to talk me into believing that I was possibly thinking wrongly about things, people from the outside looking in would give what they likely thought was helpful advice, but I could even feel how wrong that was. 

As December 2021 rolled around, I accepted the reality that the best thing for me to do was to move back home. I had felt the pull toward my hometown for a while and hesitated because I did not know what was on the other side of the move. I often need the security of knowing. But, God gives us space to catch up to what God is trying to do even when we allow our uncertainty to get in the way.

At the end of March, I turned 30. And by June 1, 2022, I was on my way back home to sunny California. Before I boarded the plane, I was at peace. I was able to save up $2,000 which worked for me because moving back home meant moving back into my parent's house. Within two weeks of moving back, I had an hourly retail job. Saving allowed me to enjoy some time outside of the house. The retail job allowed me to fully allow my off days to be exactly that. 

Between moving back and starting in retail, I realized how exhausted I was from pushing myself to be in spaces that cared more through their words than through action. Not even a year into being back home, I was back at an office job using my skills and slowly gaining more clarity on my life’s trajectory. 

Moving back home meant relief for my overall health. While I know the “my house, my rules” mantra haunts so many of us, for me moving back home has been a chance for my parents to be reintroduced to me as a grown adult, and for me to be reintroduced to them. It has been grocery trips together and family brunches with my parents and brothers once a month to stay connected. It has been sharing ingredients and recipes for cooking. Being back in my parent's house has been me taking the eldest daughter role to plan out what changes can be made to update the house and taking on the responsibility of upkeep where I can. It’s been a respect of boundaries and being able to state when I’m busy doing something or, working from home, know that that time for work will be respected.

So much of my being back home has been reconnecting with family and friends in Los Angeles, while remaining connected in the relationships I’ve gained in Chicago. It’s been present at events for the extended family that I would usually see pictures of when I lived away. It’s being able to join friends just a 15-30 minute drive away for coffee or dinner instead of scheduling Facetime, calls, or texts. But it has also been shedding people and things, as living away has grown me in ways where everyone can’t come to where I am going either.

I live my life with the belief that I deserve more. And part of that deserving more rested in the fact that I was not a machine. I have a life outside of my productivity and what I can build for others. I am a person who deserves to have a life outside of my job. And I deserve to be in spaces where I can show up in totality. There was a disconnect between who I know that I am, both on my own and through the eyes of God, and the places I often worked in.

Of being a part of white spaces in radio and publishing, who are more concerned about how digestible you can become for them. Because whiteness wants everyone else to adjust to the world as they’ve created it to be for them, not as it was created for all. I deserved to be in spaces that would hear me.

The move back home allowed me the freedom to have the stability I needed to reset my career and move the way I know God has set for me. Even when I spent so much time hesitating out of fear. I know that the ability to retreat and live in my parent's house is a privilege, and I am grateful for it.

While there is still a way to go, I have been able to work on my roots in spaces, and I am beginning to see the work I’ve put in sprout in ways I used to cry for as a freshly graduated college student at 22. The size of the bud is simply a sign of progress in the most aligned direction for me. It’s not about anybody else. I know that if I keep going, I will bloom in ways that even I could not have imagined. There is no limit to what I can do when I center God and choose myself. Because choosing to and choosing myself is just as important as meditating on God’s word and listening. 

This journey has been one of learning and clarity. Of knowing that I deserve to go after what I want. I know that while things may take a bit longer because I know what I deserve, what I am worthy of, it is worth the journey. And that journey is so crucial to the becoming. I’m glad I have a front seat.

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Born and raised in South Central Los Angeles, Shonette Reed holds a BA in Journalism and Integrated Media and an MA in Intercultural and Urban Studies. She enjoys art in its many forms, reading, cooking, and exploring. Shonette is also the creator of Resolute Magazine—a Christian arts and culture magazine for Black creatives and creatives of color.