My so-called nest has been emptied three times so far, but a global pandemic, sky-high housing costs, and layoffs have filled it right back up again. At the moment one of my 20-something children lives with me and the other lives one state over. The kid at home would rather have her own place, and I get it; she loved the independence and general adult-ness of living in her own apartment. But me? I’m pretty happy with the status quo.

When I was young, I couldn’t wait to move out. I grew up in a small town where everyone knew everyone else. I wanted to spread my wings, have adventures! And do cool stuff that might appall my lovely parents. Once I’d left for college my visits home were just that; apart from one summer I never lived “at home” again.

In my youth I lived in a variety of houses, both alone and with roommates. I went to music festivals and reveled in extended road trips. It was easy! I never struggled to find a job that would allow me to pay my rent. My needs were few and I could manage all of them. Life is oh so different now. My kids can barely afford to pay rent, let alone go on adventures. Living on their own is a luxury.

And our dynamic is different from the one I shared with my parents. I wouldn’t say my kids are my friends, because that just sounds weird. I’m aware of the boundaries of our relationships, and that as the mom there are subjects I should steer clear of. But we’re in tune in a way I wasn’t with my own parents. That may be a generational difference, or the result of being a single parent. Whatever the cause, we’re close in a different way, one which makes them more willing to stick around.

And honestly? My daughters are the only people I really want to share my space with.

They’re hilarious, first of all. They make me laugh like few other people. One cooks me fabulous meals and teaches me about music, of which she has encyclopedic knowledge. The other gets me involved in her projects, from building a copper pipe clothes rack to creating intricate aquascapes. They’re fun and interesting and they seem to think I’m fun and interesting, too.

We give each other lots of space, and I’m always happy to have them around. We don’t really have rules anymore; they’re adults who make their own decisions. I do occasionally nudge when it comes to household chores, but now it’s framed as what we need to do to keep our place feeling comfortable. We’ve got a lot of space, so we’re not on top of each other. And while I seem to be the one usually emptying the dishwasher and taking out the trash, my daughter does a lot more grocery shopping and cooking. There’s balance, but I still get to coddle a little, which brings me joy.

Multi-generational living has been the norm throughout human history, and is still not just accepted but expected in many cultures. This very American notion of independence at all costs isn’t doing our society any favors. For one thing, we’re lonely. We’re particularly lonely as we head into those empty nest years. And while moving out and setting up house is an important marker of adulthood for many, the reality is that it’s just not the right choice for a lot of young people.

There’s a lot of negativity and stereotypes around the kids who boomerang back home or never leave in the first place. But it’s time to dispense with the old trope of the failed-to-launch young adult living in their parent’s basement.

Parents aren’t always itching to get the kids out, either. If they prioritize spending time with their adult children it doesn’t mean they’re in need of more friends or better hobbies. I treasure this extra time. And honestly, it’s gratifying to see how well they’ve turned out. After all the hard work of parenting, don’t we deserve to enjoy the terrific people we’ve raised?

Our notions of family have been changing over the past decades, and I’m here to make a case for intergenerational living. Who says kids have to leave home to be “real” adults? Or that parents who like having their kids at home need to get a life? My daughter will move out as soon as she’s financially able, but until then I’m happy to have my nest cluttered and full.

Julia Williamson is mother to two mostly adult daughters. She’s a freelance writer, a decluttering wizard, and an inveterate optimist, regardless of reality. Read more in her weekly newsletter, Families and Other Freaks.