Thirty-seven years old, living away from home since the age of 19, I find myself waking up in a 4ft bed in my husband’s childhood home.
I use the term waking up loosely as the stress of our situation has left me with chronic insomnia. I live, work and sometimes sleep in essentially a caged enclosure. The cage may be unique but our living situation is not.
Ten years ago myself, my husband Colm Bowden and our two dogs emigrated to Canada. At that time the government suggested that, in order to save for a deposit for a home, a reasonable solution would be to move in with your parents for a year. At the end of the year you would have your deposit and a home of your own wouldn’t be far away. This was not available to either of us at the time so we opted to emigrate in the hope of building a better future. A full decade later so many who followed that advice have not been able to leave their parents’ houses.
Now people are moving ‘home’ less by choice and more by necessity. It’s not whether you can afford to buy any more, it’s whether you can afford to rent. The gap continues to widen and the Government looks on as more and more of us fall through the cracks, even producing tone deaf videos suggesting these situations can be solved by better communication and shared chores. As I talk with my peers I’ve realised that so many of us are now in similar circumstances, some more vulnerable than others. With this being touted as the most painless solution it felt important to me as a photographer to showcase the reality. What is Ireland asking of its people? What is the toll is being taken that is not being acknowledged?
READ MORE
Myself and Colm have been together for 15 years, married for three. He’s established himself as an engineer and I’ve progressed through my photography career. Our life in Canada was comfortable but we knew it wasn’t home. My dad fell ill in 2021, and the pull of home continued to grow, and we explored our options to return to Ireland. With two dogs our pathway to pet-friendly renting was limited to luxury rentals which would have drained the deposit we had worked so hard to save.
We felt locked out, until August 2024 when Colm’s parents kindly offered to take us in while we began the long and arduous process of finding a permanent home. We knew this was our only chance to make this move feasible so we packed up our lives and came home nine years after we first emigrated.
It is no easy adjustment for anyone involved when four adults who are used to their own space come together.
Even with most of our belongings in the attic we are at our limit in this space.
I can count on one hand the amount of times we’ve been able to go out, just the two of us, since we moved home. This stress has affected me physically as well, I’ve spasmed my back, neck and shoulder on multiple occasions carrying the stress of mortgage applications, house viewings, bidding wars and the bureaucracy of moving continents. The emotional toll shows up late at night as I lay awake and sob, grieving the loss of my dad. Five short months after we came home, he died.
Living in such close quarters, it can feel impossible to decompress, especially in the early stages of grief. As I’ve navigated this loss I’ve taken counselling sessions from our car for privacy. I’ve cried in more car parks around Dublin than I care to admit to. Maintaining a small footprint while managing major life changes comes at a cost and I am reminded at every doctor, psychology and physiotherapy appointment that this is a cost my body is struggling to pay.
To add to our challenges our dog Leica when left to his own devices will attack his sister Fuji. For their safety we have had to split our room in two with a cage and we have to plan every move including cooking or cleaning.
Colm’s parents opened their home to us but they didn’t sign up to a senior dog barking at them for shuffling in their slippers or asking a simple question near the bedroom door. Our lives and our movements as a result have become infinitely smaller than what we had in Toronto. Our system has solved the issue of aggression between our dogs but it has not solved how to get out of bed and access the dresser without completing a two-minute obstacle course. In truth, I know Leica is responding to our stress, making the situation worse than it needs to be.
Having said all this, I recognise the great privilege it is to have this home as an option. Without Colm’s parents’ generosity I would not have been able to spend those last months with Dad or to hold his hand as he died, but please tell me why is it on the parents to fix what is clearly a systemic issue? For so long this idea of living with your parents was seen as a failure to launch, and I believe this Government is happy to perpetuate that narrative. Suggesting that just helping out around the house will smooth everything out overlooks the sacrifices being made by parents and their adult children. It no longer reflects the reality of living at home and it’s time we took a good hard look at the emotional, mental and physical cost.
My photography project began with a portrait of me, Colm, Fuji and Leica in our room in Glasnevin. I met an old friend and she encouraged me to pursue this seriously. I took my plea to Instagram to ask people to collaborate. It felt important to me that this story be told by someone within these shared circumstances. When I woke up to 12,000 views and an interview request from Newstalk I was floored.
[ The housing crisis could erode Ireland’s middle class to a point of collapseOpens in new window ]
So many people in our situation are sick and tired of being overlooked, being spoken to like it is a comfortable option and we’re all just inherently unmotivated. I began to reply to those who reached out, grown adults, in their 30s, 40s and 50s happy to be photographed for this project, but out of respect for their parents they had to ask their permission. Reasonable, respectful, but also reflective of the lack of agency we’re all struggling with to some degree. It’s such a jarring moment when someone in their 30s or 40s says “I’m sorry but my Mum said no,” because the bottom line is, it’s their home, not ours. No matter the kindness, generosity or openness this remains true and therein lies the heart of the issue.
Some parents were impassioned to be a part of this story; they were angry for their children, for their grandchildren. Some expressed fear that without a solution they would lose their kids to emigration, which has been the case for my family. Others felt great shame that they couldn’t do more and didn’t want to be represented for fear of how others might perceive them. I understand and empathise but my motivation is to finally direct the shame where it belongs – with the systemic failings of our Government to address the housing crisis in any meaningful way.
I am so grateful to those who joined me enthusiastically and let me capture an accurate reflection of this pathway. I hope that what I’m creating here is a snapshot of Ireland’s history, a moment in time we look back on, not this chronic issue to be passed on to the generations that follow us.
This project also took me to Bray, Co Wicklow, to the home of Marissa Ní Mhaonaigh, Layla (six), Ruadh (three), and Lochlainn (one). A qualified midwife, Marissa has had to give up her job to provide additional care to her son following his diagnosis of autism spectrum disorder. She also shares the home with her mother and two of her four siblings.
From being refused a mortgage to being denied housing assistance when she became her son’s full-time carer, Marissa has tried everything she can think of to secure housing for her family but she has never managed to move out. She describes her life at home as “chaotic”; she says there is no space to breathe and that they are all suffering both mentally and physically. She shared “my son is really struggling with the lack of quiet space and time for sensory regulation. He has been in hospital twice due to worsening sensory issues causing injury to himself.” She says “this kind of environment can be really detrimental, especially in terms of regression”.
Taking this portrait, I had to push myself into their closet to capture the scene. There is no room to move. In Marissa’s words, “clothes pile up, washing piles up, with little space to store it and everything else that comes with family life”. She navigates this crowded existence with calm, grace and dedication. She is so in tune with each child, playful and warm, taking urgent calls on a Slinky toy from giggling Layla, catching flying Care Bears, all while bouncing Lochlainn on her knee and anticipating the minute shifts in Ruadh’s body language to try to prevent him from feeling overwhelmed. This level of attention and care only amplifies her heartache at not being able to provide her kids with the stability they deserve. She says she cannot afford the affordable purchase schemes or cost rentals, so their only hope to attain their own place is social housing which is incredibly difficult to secure with long waiting lists.
Lynn O’Keeffe of Oranmore, Galway, is a professional horticulturist with three adult children of her own. She shares a home with her mother, her youngest son, their two dogs and two cats. Lynn says she has experienced a number of no-fault evictions over the years and after a marital breakdown, resulting in a reduced budget, she moved back to her mother’s home in mid-2024.
She keeps a clean, simple double room with an array of plants to make it her own. After a life of keeping her own home, most of Lynn’s belongings are in the attic. It can feel like holding your breath when your space isn’t your own and your life is stacked away in boxes. She showed me a beautiful print she bought for herself knowing it would sit packed away until she had the proper space to hang it. This simple wish resonated deeply with me as 30 of our own boxes gather dust in Colm’s parents’ attic. This glimmer of hope that we can regain our agency.
[ Why is the housing crisis Ireland’s most enduring failure?Opens in new window ]
Lynn shared the gratitude of being able to live with her mother; unlike a house share, this is much more suitable for visits by her adult children and that is very important to her. Her hope for the future would be that she could provide the same for her own children to move in and out as needed, “to be a hub for them”. She appreciates the warm meal after a long day at work but in her words “it’s not my home. I feel like a guest most of the time.”
One of the many reasons this project has been so meaningful to me is getting to share with others our common struggles but also their unique insights. After her break-up, Lynn says, she had to move away from the village she’d lived in for 20 years. It has cut off social outlets and her current situation feels too transient for her to put down roots. She makes the point that if large amounts of the population are in temporary or insecure accommodation they are less likely to join in communities, clubs or volunteer, and they can become isolated. According to Lynn, “the current housing system is destroying our sense of community”.
I know from my own experience I’ve been reluctant to join local community groups as I have never been sure how long my current situation will last. Until Lynn put this into words it hadn’t occurred to me that this was a shared experience and the broader effect that has on Irish society.
Ráma Block, a musician and music teacher, has had a significantly more positive experience in the six years he’s spent sharing a home with his parents. He is father to four adult children and has a young grandchild. In 2019 his marriage of 25 years broke up and, he says:: “There is no way I could have afforded today’s prices.”
In his case there was plenty of room at his parents home in Ballinteer, Dublin as they had previously converted the garage to accommodate his grandfather before he died. Ráma shares the kitchen, livingroom and shower with his parents but otherwise has a large space with a bathroom attached. He loves sharing a home with them and they all get along well.
His room is bursting with personality, showcasing his love of cycling, martial arts and his many musical instruments. After a soulful rendition of Roxanne by The Police on his double bass, he speaks of his parents so warmly; he loves the opportunity to share this space with them. Though they are both in their 80s and are completely independent, Ráma feels grateful to be near to help around the house and cook a few family meals. Though his situation is a positive one, he hopes for change for the next generation.
“When I left home at 17 I shared a bedsit in Dún Laoghaire with my girlfriend and the rent was IR£12 per week between us. Those kinds of opportunities are just not there for my kids,” he says.
For me, this project has just begun; this crisis is far from over. Colm and myself, Lynn, Marissa, and Ráma, all have unique stories to tell. We are all established adults, we’ve moved through the phases of life that were supposed to give us some semblance of security, and yet we are left lacking.
For many of us, our lives are on hold in some way, but through this project I hope to convey just how much life and dignity exists within these struggles. We are capable, professional, intelligent, compassionate people and this “failure to launch” needs to be reassigned to its rightful owners. Each of us has contributed to this project to bring to light this reality in all its various iterations because we want more for ourselves, and for the people of Ireland.
There is an old Irish proverb that comes to mind: “Ar scáth a chéile a mhaireann na daoine.” We depend on each other, for shelter, for support and, now, to speak up.
What is the Government’s latest plan for housing?
The Government’s new housing plan, called Delivering Homes, Building Communities, was launched in November and aims to deliver 300,000 new homes by 2030.
This includes 72,000 social homes and 90,000 affordable housing supports.
The plan has two major pillars: the first focuses on activating supply through making more land available and serviced for building on, encouraging private-sector investment in the sector and turning derelict sites into homes.
The second pillar focuses on supporting people out of homelessness, providing more social and affordable housing and delivering housing for specific needs such as older people, disabled people and Travellers.
It includes a €12.2 billion investment in the water sector; €3.5 billion in equity funding to grid infrastructure between 2026 and 2030 and a €1 billion Infrastructure Investment Fund.
New housing plan promises 300,000 new homes. Can it deliver?
The VAT rate on apartments was marked down from 13.5 per cent to 9 per cent in order to make construction more viable, while cost rental homes were made exempt from corporation tax.
The plan included almost €20 billion for new social and affordable housing as well as a further €2.5 billion in funding for the Land Development Agency for the delivery of social and affordable homes. The plan aims to deliver 12,000 new social homes every year over its lifetime.
There were also reforms to the rental sector included in the plans, with stronger protections for tenants and an ability for landlords to resent rents to market rates every six years.
There was mixed reaction to the plan when it was launched, with many critics pointing to the fact that the target of 300,000 homes over six years (50,000 a year) was unlikely to be met.
Minister for Housing James Browne said the goal was “ambitious but also realistic”. - Niamh Towey
