When Emily Bly was a teenager, she sometimes fantasized about when she’d be old enough to strike out on her own and see the world beyond her hometown of Acworth N. H.
After graduating from Fall Mountain Regional High School in Langdon, N.H. in 2016, that day finally arrived, and Bly left home to study at the University of New Brunswick Saint John in Canada.
“I ran,” Bly joked in an interview last month.
But years later, Bly is back in her parents’ home as she works to pay down a mountain of student debt. Once again, the prospect of getting out of New Hampshire shimmers hazy and distant on the horizon.
Since the middle of the last century, moving out of the family home has embedded itself in the American psyche as a hallmark of independence. Remaining at home for any prolonged period of time into one’s 20s, meanwhile, is often viewed as a failure to launch.
But since the early 2000s, more and more young people have opted to live with their parents as adults, to save money in the midst of a precarious job market, student loan burdens and increasingly unaffordable housing and rental costs.
The coronavirus pandemic only caused this trend to grow, and as of 2023, roughly one in three young people ages 18 to 34 in the U.S. were still living with a parent, Pew Research Center reported last year.
In the Upper Valley, the cost of living has continued to rise with the rest of the country, forcing many young people to live at home with their parents late into their 20s.
Some, like Bly, are struggling to repay student loan debt on a retail employee’s wage, while others such as Tommi Hoyt are focusing on building their savings while grappling with the loss of a parent. Others still, including Simon Leonard, of White River Junction, rely on family to help with child care.
Student loan debt
Now 27, Bly was in the middle of getting her joint degree in English and history when the coronavirus pandemic hit back in 2020. She soon started attending virtual classes and moved home to get vaccinated.
Like many who were cooped up inside for months during COVID, her mental health began to backslide and ADHD made it hard to stay on top of her schoolwork. Ultimately, she finished senior year with a small number of outstanding credits, which meant that she was unable to complete her degree.
Even as COVID restrictions lifted, Bly continued to struggle with her mental health.
“I was unemployed for about a year because I was having a hard time getting out of bed,” she said.
Nonetheless, the loan repayment notices began to roll in. Needing income, Bly picked up her old high school job at the now-closed Claremont Cinema 6 where she made a group of friends that she’s close with today. That summer, she also got a second job at a seasonal taco truck to supplement her wage.
Bly declined to say the total amount she owes in student loans, but stated that her monthly loan payments are over $1,000.
In New Hampshire, “fair market rent,” or the average rent for a one-bedroom apartment, is $1,401, while in Vermont it’s $1,218, says a recent report from the National Low Income Housing Coalition.
Given the cost of living in the Upper Valley, Bly’s student loan payments “basically made my living outside my house impossible” she said. “I can’t even afford groceries.”
These days, she works part-time at Newbury Comics in West Lebanon, another store she’s been visiting since high school, and part-time as the head librarian at Unity Free Public Library. She’s a big fan of K-Pop and manga, the Japanese graphic novel, so a job at Newbury seemed like the perfect fit.
“I’ve always been one of those people where if I enjoy what I’m doing, I excel,” she said.
Bly declined to disclose how much she makes at Newbury Comics, but said that her wage is “over $17” an hour, while her wage at the library is $20.
The minimum hourly wage to rent a one-bedroom apartment at fair market value in Sullivan County is $20.85, according to a report from the National Low Income Housing Coalition.
About half of Bly’s monthly income goes toward paying her student loans. To help her out, her mom, Jenny Bly, covers one of the loans (about $350), but Bly is on the hook for the remaining $900 or so that’s due each month. Her parents also cover her cellphone bill, and insurance and upkeep on her car.
Bly acknowledged that without a degree it sometimes feels like the money she earns “is going to waste,” but she worries about accruing more debt by going back to school.
Plus, enough time has gone by at this point that “I’m not in the school mindset,” she said.
For Jenny Bly, letting Emily stay at home and shouldering her expenses is part of the duty of parenthood. “Your kids need you and you want to help them succeed in the best way that they can and give them as much independence as possible,” she said. “We’re there for her as long as she needs us to be.”
Jenny Bly, 56, also noted that covering their daughter’s expenses hasn’t put a big dent in the couple’s finances. Her husband Randy delivers oil for Eastern Propane and Oil, while she works in administration.
“I’m grateful that my parents are my parents,” Bly said. “I’m very, very thankful that they are letting me live at their house rent free…”
Bly’s shifts at Newbury usually start at noon and end around 8 p.m., so she and her parents don’t see much of each other on days when she’s working there.
Occasionally, Bly and her mom will go out for ice cream. Bly spends much of her free time hanging out with friends, playing video games and making her own jewelry.
Beyond asking Bly to cook dinner on her days off and tend to the family’s kimchi jar, her parents don’t have any set rules regarding the division of household chores.
“I think the part of it that’s challenging is because she works retail, there’s no set schedule. So there’s not really any expectations,” Jenny said.
Even though she’s grateful that she can live at home, and she’s built a solid crew of friends in the area, sometimes Bly’s living situation causes her to spiral.
“It’s just one of those things where I’m like I guess I pay bills and I have a full-time job so I guess I’m an adult? But I try not to think about it too much because I’m like what I’m doing with my life?” she said.
She hopes to refinance her loans in the future so she can reduce her monthly payment and maybe look at renting an apartment with a friend, but “there isn’t a big plan at the moment, if only because I feel like so much of my time and energy goes toward paying my student loans,” she said.
Navigating grief
Like Bly, 24-year-old Tommi Hoyt’s decision to move in with her dad in Tunbridge a year after she graduated from the University of Vermont, was a financial one, but it also coincided with a period of loss.
Shortly after Hoyt finished her degree in psychology, in 2023, her mother, Christine Hoyt, was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. She died that December at age 61.
On top of that, three months after her mom died, Hoyt’s long-term girlfriend, a fellow alum of The Sharon Academy, ended their relationship.
“That was like the worst spring of my life,” she said. “My poor roommates didn’t know what to do.”
Hoyt’s parents had been covering her rent, about $800 a month, while she was living in Burlington, but after her mom died, her dad, Tom Hoyt, a groundskeeper, could no longer swing the expense on a single income.
When her lease expired in May 2024, Hoyt moved home to Tunbridge and got a job as a perioperative support technician at Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center, where she makes about $20 an hour.
Growing up, Hoyt tended to cling to her parents for comfort, she said, especially her mom. She rarely spent time in her room, preferring instead to hang out in common areas so she could be close to her parents. When the day came for them to take her to UVM, she sobbed the entire way there.
But her mother’s illness and the breakup had marred Hoyt’s fond memories of Tunbridge since then, and she often dreaded driving down to visit her dad in the months before she moved back.
“It caused me to almost resent my home because of the pain that it brought,” she said.
Returning home required that she build a new life in the present.
She started by rearranging her room. Her mom spent a lot of time in Hoyt’s childhood bed when she was sick because it was on the ground floor, so one of the first things she did when she moved home was buy a new one. “I didn’t sleep in that bed for a second,” she said.
Not having her mom around meant Hoyt and her dad had to reconfigure their dynamic as well.
Earlier this summer, Tom accompanied Hoyt to a birth control procedure, something he never would have done when her mom was alive. “Believe me, if I have to do it, I will do it,” Tom said.
When it comes to household duties, Hoyt usually buys groceries and pays the internet bill, while Tom does most of the daily chores and covers other expenses.
The pair have also looked to each other to help shoulder their grief. “I’m constantly asking her how she’s doing and hugging her and we talk and cry,” Tom said.
“I’m a tough son of a bitch,” he added. “I probably could have survived without anybody being around to help me, but it’s been a lot nicer not having to do it on my own.”
Both father and daughter said that living together doesn’t infringe much on their sense of independence, though Hoyt noted that she sometimes feels self-conscious about living at home, especially because many of her friends are renting apartments in Burlington.
“I knew damn well that nobody actually judged me for it, but I still (did),” she said.
She and her dad are both in new relationships now, and Hoyt has toyed with the idea of renting a place with her boyfriend, though she noted that “when I move, I really want to live somewhere outside of Vermont.”
“We’ve been through a lot,” Tom said. “But things are getting much better.”
‘Taking care of each other’
For Bly and Hoyt, living with their families is a temporary refuge that offers some breathing room while they pay down debt and build their savings. Simon Leonard, meanwhile, views living at home as a long-term arrangement that has advantages for the entire household.
Three and a half years ago, Leonard moved in with his mom, Karen Hohlbein, in the two-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment she shares with her husband, Gary, in White River Junction to get away from his emotionally abusive boyfriend.
Leonard, 27, and his boyfriend had been renting an apartment in Enfield when their landlord decided to put the property up for sale. Unable to find affordable housing on short notice, the couple spent three months living in their car.
Aware of the abuse, Karen offered her spare room to Leonard and helped him file a restraining order against his boyfriend.
The living arrangement was meant to be temporary, but when Leonard, who is trans, became pregnant with his daughter Ellie, the Hohlbeins agreed to let him stay.
“Whatever you want to do here, I will support you,” Karen thought at the time.
About a year ago, Leonard’s fiancé John Longshaw moved into the White River Junction apartment as well.
Leonard and Longshaw, who have both struggled with depression, acknowledged that their mental health has improved greatly since moving in with the Hohlbeins.
“I need to be around other humans,” Leonard said. “I don’t do well on my own.”
The Hohlbeins often look after 2-year-old Ellie for an evening so Longshaw and Leonard can have some time to themselves. Leonard noted that the arrangement has helped the couple save significantly on child care.
Karen, who is 51, said their living situation reminds her of a time when “a multigenerational household was the norm because grandparents (would) help take care of the little ones.”
These days it seems multigenerational homes exist as a way to mitigate financial stress, rather than the stress of child care, she said.
Living together has also marked a kind of reunion for Leonard and Karen. Growing up, Leonard lived with Karen’s sister, who legally adopted Leonard while Karen was grappling with the aftermath of her own abusive relationship.
“It wasn’t what I wanted for me, but it was what was better for my child, and my child’s the more important,” Karen said.
Even though there are days when “Simon just needs a mom for support,” Karen said, she acknowledged that “it’s not a parent-child relationship; we’re all taking care of each other.”
For instance, about two years ago, Gary, who is 64, was diagnosed with metastatic renal cell carcinoma, an aggressive form of cancer.
Today, his condition is stable, but in the early days of his diagnosis “for my mental sanity, it was a godsend to have Simon there,” Karen said.
The family also shares much of the day-to-day labor, with Karen cooking dinner three nights a week, while Leonard handles the other three. On the seventh, everyone fends for themselves.
To help manage household expenses, the four adults made a family account for rent and bills in which each person’s contribution is calculated based on their individual income. Leonard, who is a bus driver for the Lebanon School District, and Longshaw, who works at AutoZone on Miracle Mile, both contribute around $600 or $700 a month.
Karen also drives buses for the Lebanon School District, while Gary receives some money from Social Security Disability Insurance.
Leonard noted that the shared fund has helped create some wiggle room if unexpected expenses come up throughout the month.
Still, even though Leonard’s monthly bills are much lower than if he were renting on his own in the Upper Valley, he still hasn’t managed to save much money.
“I buy things impulsively, but I have the money to spend to buy things impulsively,” he said.
At the moment, he and Longshaw are focused on purchasing decorations for their wedding, which they plan to hold next year on Halloween.
The couple envision buying their own home in the future, and they plan to bring the Hohlbeins with them.
The household has become a community, Leonard said. “A mini community.”