When 32-year-old Maureen Stewart contracted Covid-19 back in March, her life was completely upended. She was living in San Francisco but on a business trip in her hometown of Philadelphia when she got symptoms, staying with her parents. What was supposed to be a week-long trip turned into an indefinite situation.
“Everything hurt, I had a fever and felt like I couldn’t breathe,” Stewart says. Shortly after recovering, she got laid off from her startup job, cementing her stay at her parents’ house. “I just came for a business trip and packed for a week — and was left wondering ‘how did I lose my health and my job all at once?’”
Seven months later, she’s still at home suffering from long-term health consequences of the virus, including vestibular migraines at least once a week that are so severe that she vomits and gets vertigo. The pain can be so debilitating that neurologists told her that it isn’t safe for her to live alone.
Describing herself as someone who was once very independent, Stewart says that it’s been difficult to reflect on her past life in San Francisco, where she had a flourishing career and spent most of her time outdoors. Emotionally, financially, and physically coping with the aftermath of Covid-19 has been a difficult experience only compounded by the political climate.
“I’m having bad dreams about losing the Affordable Care Act — I’m not sleeping over it,” she says. Stewart is also dealing with the “terror” of knowing that her condition is potentially lifelong and doesn’t know when — or if — she’ll be able to live on her own again.
Despite the struggles, Stewart is grateful for her parents, who understand how much she’s lost. Together, they’ve watched all 60 Phillies games — one of her favorite things to do growing up — and living with them has put her mortality into perspective.
“One time my friend told me: ‘We’ll probably get to see our parents only a 100 more times in our lives,’ and that broke my heart,” she says. “But now I get to see them every day.”
Stewart is just one of many young people who moved back in with parents earlier this year during the threat of Covid-19 — not all because they were sick, but simply because it made more sense to to ride out the pandemic somewhere other than an expensive, small apartment. But back in March, no one could fathom how long the virus would affect us — what many thought would be temporary stays have now turned into seven plus months with no end in sight.
The trend of millennials moving back in with family has been steadily increasing in recent years — the pandemic only increased that rate. The numbers of 18- to 29-year-olds living with their parents has become a majority since coronavirus struck: in July, 52% of this age group resided with one or both of their parents, up from 47% in February, according to Pew Research Center. That’s a new record since the Great Depression.
For 28-year-old Jeremy, who up until Covid-19 struck had been living in Korea and doing cross-country trips in rural Australia, moving back into his childhood bedroom in Dallas was kind of exciting at first. He looked forward to saving on rent and getting quality time with family.
But the ordeal hasn’t been easy. As someone whose parents are nearing their seventies, Jeremy is now taking on the role as the caretaker — not only helping them cook and run errands, but reminding them to wear masks and practice social distancing.
“In many ways I’m taking on these parental duties — that’s been hard,” he says. Dating, too, has proven to be difficult. While he has an online dating profile, he’s refrained from talking to anyone since he plans on eventually moving to Seattle. “It’s just to remind myself that I’m not the only person who’s lonely,” he says.
Regardless, Jeremy’s found ways to feel connected and stay busy: he’s taken on scrapbooking and showed me (via Facetime) a meticulous filing cabinet full of materials ranging from photos to love letters. He’s also taken up guitar and leading Dungeons and Dragons campaigns, where his job as a dungeon master is to “guide five lovable idiots through Dracula’s lair.”
For better or worse, the pandemic has brought many families closer. Lindsay Landsberg, who’s currently working at a fashion startup and living with her family in Oakland, says that this is the second time she’s moved back in with her parents as an adult. This time, though, has forced them to move past some of their past conflicts.
“It’s kind of comforting to be home with all this uncertainty, and it’s nice to not to worry about adult responsibilities like cooking and rent as much,” she says. “But being 27 and living at home is not what you expect to be doing, especially if you’ve already moved out before. Sometimes I feel stifled… I know my parents don’t have control over my life like when I was a teenager, but there’s still something about being back in the environment that just makes me feel like I can’t fully live my life as an adult.”
For Landsberg, who was already living in Oakland, the decision to move back home wasn’t due to finances — it was because of her roommate situation.
“I lived with one roommate who was being super irresponsible,” Landsberg said. “He was going to underground raves and hosting house parties after I had talked to him multiple times about how I wasn’t comfortable,” she says.
The process hasn’t been as healing for others. Anna, who was living in Los Angeles, moved back in with her parents in March in Santa Cruz and has a strained relationship with her mother. She says that it’s been difficult seeing all of her high school friends thriving at home while she has been struggling.
“It’s hard to hear they’re doing well when I feel like I’ve been in literal hell for seven months,” says Anna, who just signed a lease on her own place. “I can’t wait to move out, It’s not been a fun time,” she says. “It’s been the worst possible thing for our relationship.”
For most young people at home, it’s simply a guessing game as to when they can resume their normal lives. As long as the virus rages on, futures remain uncertain and overshadowed. And so, they wait.
