Why you should move out in your 20s if you can
Every week, PhilSTAR L!fe explores issues and topics from the perspectives of different age groups, encouraging healthy but meaningful conversations on why they matter. This is Generations by our Gen Z columnist Angel Martinez.
I first thought about moving out after I traveled alone for the first time.
In celebration of my 25th birthday, I went on a week-long exercise in fending for myself. I chose where to go, what to eat, and which route to take back to my hotel—no adults to ask permission from or consult if things went south. (Don’t ask me how many times I got on the wrong bus.)
My senses were on high alert; my mind, constantly two steps ahead. But I remember feeling so self-assured in those moments. As I cleaned my small space and packed all my pasalubong at the end of my trip, I caught myself contemplating the next marker of adulthood—my vacation, if I extended the free trial period.
There were very real barriers, of course. I admit I was most afraid of what my family would think about my sudden desire for independence. I’m a sheltered only child, constantly doted on and provided for by parents who love me dearly. Would they allow me? Worse, what if they took it personally?
As we’ve all learned the hard way, our country is defined by a collectivist culture and family-centric values. The norm is an entire clan, sharing a singular household to provide support and keep ties strong. Those who establish independence are often frowned upon, told off for lacking “utang na loob,” when all they wanted was to break free from toxic dynamics and cycles.
For many, there’s also the question of whether they can afford it in the first place. A study by the Philippine Institute for Development Studies shares that young Filipinos are postponing plans to live independently, as a result of increasing rent, household costs, and familial obligations. The situation has gotten so dire that homeownership is now seen as an “unattainable goal rather than a realistic aspiration,” in market research agency Kadence International’s words.
If, however, our relationships with our families are secure, and our savings are more than enough, I will forever recommend seeing this dream through. It’s only been a little under a month since I moved out of my family home and into a space of my own, so I’m still learning the ropes. But I think it’s safe to say I’m right where I want to be.
For one, my friends used to joke that I came from “the middle of f–ing nowhere, QC,” paying thousands of pesos on Grab just to join the function. But now, everything is a short stroll or a quick ride away from my apartment: a cafe that serves the best matcha in town; a library with a quirky, blue book box by its front door; the public park of my dreams, most beautiful when lit up at night.
I have reclaimed so much of my time, now that I no longer have to account for two-hour commutes. So I structure my days as I please: creating routines and rituals that live up to my standards. Early morning journaling sessions, midday grocery or convenience store runs, at least one new cafe weekly—stuff like that. While others may find this setup overwhelming and perhaps isolating, I’ve relished in my independence and treasured my solitude since childhood.
It’s one thing living solo can teach anyone: to enjoy any semblance of slowness we can get in this pressure cooker of a city. Some days, my body regains consciousness right before sunrise, and I feel the demands of hustle culture seize me by the proverbial collar. But then, I peel back my curtains and take in the city skyline in complete silence and remember that some things can always afford to wait.
And yet, with all the highlights I’ve had so far, I can say that the rose-colored glasses have come off. The hard parts are essential to the journey, yes, but they’re a pain in the ass to deal with in real time.
Living alone forces us to deal with the consequences of our actions. When cash flow is running low or dirty clothes start piling up, there is no one to blame but ourselves and our lack of budgeting and scheduling skills—and sometimes, there’s nothing left to do but suck it up.
A week into my new arrangement, I got sick. Nothing too serious: just a bowl of chicken noodle soup and eight hours of rest, and I would have been all fixed. But I was shaking so much I couldn’t sleep. I literally had to crawl to my pantry just to find any source of sustenance, only to find a single bag of potato chips.
I feel like the worst is to come, too. There will be days of missing family members, of bone-deep exhaustion. Silence that was once serene can so easily turn chilling. That’s why it’s important to gauge if we’re ready financially, emotionally, and mentally before making the big move.
Are we willing to sign up for an extended period of self-parenting? Can we trust ourselves to cut down on useless impulse purchases and unhealthy dining options? Or, at the very least, are we willing to ask for help? These can be scary realities to even consider for some.
But for those who answer yes, with full conviction, I must say the rewards are immense. What awaits you is a life of your own, in a space that reflects who you’ve always wanted to be, with a view of the city that will soon know you by name.
Generations by Angel Martinez appears weekly at PhilSTAR L!fe.
