As a single mom, I always loved the idea of living with friends later in life. I pictured something like “The Golden Girls” — gray hair, grown children, and long days laughing with my closest companions.
I never expected that lifestyle to happen at 41, while I was still raising my kids on my own and figuring out what came next. But that all changed this past summer, when I texted my friend Jennifer and asked if she’d consider moving in with us.
Jennifer and I weren’t very close before this. Sure, we checked in on each other from time to time, and would go to dinner or a movie together every few months, but that was it.
Even though we weren’t best friends, I still thought she and I would be ideal roommates because we’re both clean, organized, and responsible.
Plus, we were both looking for a financial reset. I’d been planning a move to Paris and had put my side hustles on the back burner, but when the move fell through, I was stretched thin as a single mom covering a mortgage alone.
Similarly, at 49, Jennifer was burned out from leading a media network and a mental-health nonprofit. She was also single, living alone in an apartment — since her kids are all grown — and shouldering all her expenses.
We realized that sharing a home could help us both save some money while we figured out our next steps. Because we weren’t super close friends to begin with, we didn’t have to worry about the arrangement infringing upon our relationship.
And as long as my two teenage kids were fine with it, I felt good about the decision. So, after two weeks of discussion, Jennifer moved in.
Sharing expenses made room for small joys again
Sarah Gallucci
The first weekend we lived together, I was surprised there wasn’t any awkwardness. She fit right in, asking about our shower schedules, what time we woke up and went to bed, and the WiFi password.
Thankfully, our two-story home gave everyone enough privacy, with my room on the first floor and Jennifer’s and my kids’ rooms on the second, so we never felt like we were stepping on each other’s toes.
Sarah Gallucci
Before long, we experienced the biggest payoff: financial relief. Within just a few months of living together, I was finally able to save money again.
It’s often said that living alone is a flex, but living with my friend has given me financial breathing room I wouldn’t have had otherwise.
My mortgage is around $2,000 a month, and Jennifer pays me $500 for rent. When my children and I are gone for long stretches, she offers to pay a portion of the electricity and water bills. Groceries are our own responsibility, but we share the cost for household items like paper towels and laundry detergent.
Now that I have a roommate who is contributing to the expenses, I can have dinner with girlfriends once a month or buy a book from the bookstore without feeling guilty.
I also can take my kids to lunch at a café or treat them to dinner without feeling panicked.
Plus, Jennifer is less stressed about finances now and can be more selective about the entrepreneurial projects she takes on.
Jennifer became more than a roommate to my kids and me
Sarah Gallucci
Beyond the financial benefits, welcoming Jennifer into our home has brought us closer together and made us feel like one large family.
She takes a vested interest in my kids’ well-being — offers rides to and from school if they need them, shares her snacks with them, and talks to them about their creative dreams, goals, and projects they’re working on.
Even in the simple moments of drinking our morning coffees together, we talk about everything from disappointing encounters with men to our hormones as we get older.
It’s not unusual for our Sunday dinners to spill into the late evening with wine, pasta, and long, candlelit conversations around the dinner table.
We all love playing games, or simply sitting at the kitchen island while I read the newspaper, and Jennifer quotes a film nobody else has seen.
Although the arrangement has been beautiful, we’ve both had to give up some freedom. For example, we have a mutual rule that we don’t bring men we’re dating back to the house, out of our respect for each other and for my kids’ safety.
We’ve learned to be more conscious of everyday habits, from remembering whose laundry is in the washer to keeping the noise down late at night.
I’ve also learned to be more intentional about keeping the common areas clean, since the space is no longer just for my kids and me.
Jennifer and I have been living together for six months, and even though I’m not moving abroad anytime soon, I am still very much in transition. I am picking up the pieces of a future I thought I’d have, re-imagining it, and changing direction. It’s a relief to do that with someone helping me out.
At this time, we don’t know how long we’ll live together. Eventually, I would love to move to New York City to be closer to family, which means my time with Jennifer as my roommate would come to an end.
Regardless, both of us have said we’d do it again, and we’d choose this over moving in romantically with a man.
