'My adult child moved back home, I wasn't ready for what it did to me.'

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When Mel Robinson's kids first moved out of the family home, the silence was deafening. "No doors slamming, no shoes abandoned in the hallway," she said. "It felt like the house exhaled, and I had to learn to breathe with it."

At first, the quiet was discombobulating. After decades of running a household, Mel felt adrift. Who was she, without the constant thrum of other people's needs? But gradually, she began to adjust. She reclaimed the little things that had always been interrupted, hot morning coffee that stayed hot, dinners of her own choice.

"It was ordinary and radical at the same time," she said.

She found herself saying 'yes' again. Yes, to invitations she used to decline, yes to creative projects that had gathered dust, yes to the luxury of simply going for a walk without checking when she'd be needed back.

"It wasn't freedom I found, but permission," Mel said. "Permission to live life on my own terms."

And then came the news: her kids were moving back in. "Honestly? A mix of joy and dread," Mel said. "Joy that I'd have them close, dread that my hard-won space would shrink overnight."

She describes it as putting her "mum hat" back on. "It was like slipping into an old coat — familiar, but suddenly too tight across the shoulders."

Watch: Children, grown and young, are an unpredictable source of change. Check out this clip of BAYH that explains the grief that comes with these kind of life transitions. Post continues below.

For Liz*, the shift began when her eldest son moved out. "It was an intense mix of emotions," she said.

"The energy of the house improved for the better — it had been a tumultuous few years — but I knew he wasn't ready to go it alone and that he would sink before he would swim."

When her second boy left, the feeling was different again.

"There was a sense of excitement for him mixed with a tinge of grief that this part of our lives had come to an end," she explained. "It was as it should be, of course, but the plus side of a quieter, cleaner, tidier house was far outweighed by the loss of our family's happiest soul."

Her youngest, still at home and just starting university, suddenly felt the absence of his brothers. And Liz had to get her head around smaller routines. No more giant weekly shops or endless loads of washing.

"I still can't cook for fewer than 10 people," she said.

Like Mel, Liz used her newfound time to reclaim herself. She went to book club, took up kayaking, had spontaneous drinks with friends, and finally had her car to herself.

Learning to live together… again.

But, always suspecting her boys would boomerang back, Liz left their rooms untouched. "I didn't change them into spare rooms because I felt they'd come back at some point. I was right," she said.

When they did return, the shift was immediate.

"Happy because how lovely to have them home," Liz said, "combined with the sinking feeling of, 'oh god. It's about to get really intense.'"

Suddenly, the fridge was empty within hours, the house filled with noise, and those precious moments of freedom disappeared.

"No more chilling out in my undies when the youngest was out of the house," she said.

There was also the challenge of learning to live together as adults. "I didn't want to live in a share house. They didn't want parents wanting to know where they were going and if they were coming home that night."

To survive, Liz set boundaries: no smoking, no drugs, no one-night stands brought home, and everyone cleans up after themselves.

The reward, though, has been profound. "There's a huge joy in discovering that the child you wrangled is now a delightful adult to hang around with," Liz said.

"Genuinely funny, kind, caring, and just honest, good people. That's been a massive plus and a source of wonderment."

She's also found herself more present than she was in the past.

"I was a lot more tense when they were younger and not always present in the moment," she said.

"Now I can enjoy the time with them far more. I'm also surprised at what nice guys they are. Maybe I didn't do such a bad job of parenting after all."

The emotional whiplash is completely normal.

According to the ABS, more adult children are living at home for longer, or returning after moving out, driven by housing affordability, financial instability, and relationship breakdowns. Relationship counsellor Susan de Campo says the emotional whiplash parents describe is completely normal.

"Life is very much about ages and stages," she explained.

"When adult children return home, there's often a subconscious sense of going backwards. Thoughts like, 'I thought I was done,' or 'how long until I get my freedom back?' are completely normal."

Listen: How do you maintain healthy boundaries? Can you be friends with your kid? And what do you do when you profoundly disagree with choices your adult child is making? This episode is a chat with Mia Freedman about her relationship with her adult son. Post continues below.

When allowing adult children back into the house, Susan says, one of the most important steps is setting boundaries.

"Do not assume everyone holds the same expectations," she said.

"Who will do the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry? What about visitors, tidiness, or costs? The more that's discussed upfront, the less resentment down the track."

She encourages parents to have these conversations early and revisit them often.

"Keeping resentment to a minimum avoids explosive arguments that can damage the relationship," she said.

"Go out for a coffee or meal, make it a public setting if the topic is touchy, and check in regularly."

The other non-negotiable, she says, is preserving time for yourself.

"Have the tough conversations, enjoy the company, and embrace the good part. It keeps you young," Susan said. "

But make sure you still have some me time. That's what keeps the household sustainable for everyone."

For both Mel and Liz, the experience has been a balancing act: offering support without slipping back into 24/7 motherhood.

"I had to remind myself I wasn't back at square one," Mel said. "They are capable adults. My role was to hold space, not carry it all."

Liz agrees. "Yes, we annoyed the hell out of each other sometimes, but we also rediscovered each other as adults, with that solid foundation of unconditional love."

The hardest part, both women say, has been letting go of old roles while still being there when needed.

"It's a huge joy," Liz said. "That's been the biggest surprise of all."

Mel has written a book about her experiences as a boomerang parent, called This Wasn't The Plan – Grieving the Golden Years That Never Came: Mel Robinson.

*Names have been changed to protect identities.

Feature Image: Supplied.