It's been a year since I graduated college and I still live at home with my parents. I’m 24; the thought crosses my mind weekly. While I’m not entirely thrilled with my present situation, I’ve come to realize that, when I graduated college (as well as now), it was the only option I had.

First, it was the call of familial duty. My mom is of failing health. My brother is autistic, woefully unprepared for this kind of stress, no matter how much I try to work with him. My dad needed help.

For months, until I started working, I was the go-between for my dad and my mom’s doctors. When I wasn’t applying for jobs, I was setting up appointments and arranging transportation to my mom’s various doctors’ offices. My mom is not the best patient, but I know I’m needed here. Dad often said to me he would have had to quit his job to be home full-time if I was not there.

Second, is the most obvious: money. Like most seniors graduating college, full-time jobs were hard to come by for me. If I had wanted to get my own apartment, or get an apartment with friends, particularly in my ideal city like Boston, the logical thing would be to find a job first. One that paid regularly, and provided enough that I could pay at least a portion of rent with the help of roommates as well as food and other necessities.

In an ideal world, right?

Even now, apartment searching would be risky. I’m currently working at the Boston Public Library, but it is only a temporary position. They have hired me for just this particular project. Whenever that is done, I’ll be relying on my consultant at the temp agency to come through for me once again. It was merely a stroke of luck and perfect timing she found the job at BPL for me right after I signed up at KFN&T. I might not get that lucky again.

While this situation is not one I would have chosen—nor would my parents, for that matter—for now, it is best. This way, I can help them for however long they need me and I can start saving money. My dad has been supportive and understanding, encouraging me to put my work first, even when things with family were chaotic. He brings me to the train station every day and tells me to “type slowly” to make this job last as long as possible, because he knows it is a good job and it makes me happy.

Five years ago, after Dad moved me into my freshman dorm, he came home and, to my mom’s anger, moved his computer to the desk in my bedroom. Back then Mom was not as bad as she is now. I’m sure he was thinking about how, in four years, I would be done with school, move out permanently, and he would finally get his dining room or man cave or whatever plans he had for the space. But, like I said, in four years, things changed. A lot.

For those of you facing the prospect of having to move back in with your parents, it will only be terrible if you make it terrible. Depending on your relationship with them, of course. If your parents acknowledge you are an adult and give you space, like my dad does, it will be pleasant. If your parents do not acknowledge you are an adult and still try to dictate every part of your life around “their house, their rules,” like my mom, you might have a hard time. The key thing is to roll with it, save money, and try to make the best of the situation; that you are simply buying time until that super-awesome job in your dream city or super-cool apartment with your name on it is finally ready for you.