My father and I hadn’t spoken in a few years by the time I moved out, so even though I was living with my then fiancee (now ex) in her parents’ basement, I felt significantly more welcome there (and yeah I definitely didn’t feel super welcome, but also, I was a fresh college graduate without a job, it’s not like I’d love having one of those move into my basement).

We broke up shortly after I got a job and we’d moved out of her parents’ place. It’d been falling apart for a while at that point. Having my own place was absolute liberation for the few months before a college friend moved onto my couch and a few months later I moved in with my now wife. I didn’t feel like a burden or annoyance on anyone. I got my own couch. I didn’t have to worry about being observed (it’s still stressful, but was especially so before working on my cptsd). I could bring people over without asking whether friends or sexual partners. I love being married, but I do partly miss that level of non negotiated control over my home. It was good for me