Navigating Cohousing: My Journey from Single Mum to Communal Living

Several years ago, I found myself in a shared house in Melbourne as a single mother. It was not the most ideal living situation, but it was what I could afford at the time. As a single parent, I felt isolated, and the concept of “it takes a village” seemed like a distant idea. The question of the best way to raise a child and the whereabouts of the utopian communes of the 70s lingered in my mind.

Through word of mouth, I discovered a co-housing community that was looking for new members. Co-housing, a model of intentional community with independent living spaces and shared communal areas, piqued my interest. I was drawn to the idea of a commune with structure, minus the excessive wind chimes. This particular community was welcoming low-income earners like myself, and to my surprise, it was being built just a few suburbs away from where I currently lived.

I embraced the opportunity and submitted my application, highlighting my rather unique skillset and my ability to patiently make decisions by consensus. When I was accepted, I was overwhelmed with emotion. After moving numerous times in less than a decade of parenting, I was relieved to finally find a stable place to call home.

While waiting for our units to be built, our community engaged in communal dinners and shared our collective dreams. It was a blissful period, where our idealistic notions of a shared life were in full swing. Eventually, we moved in and began transforming the bleak building site into a vibrant living space. We held working bees, planted gardens, and decorated common areas with thrift store finds. It was not long before the culture of our community began to take shape, complete with birthday traditions and themed nights.

Nevertheless, living in a community comes with its challenges. There were days filled with harmony and others where ideological differences led to conflict. I started to yearn for privacy and found the constant demands of communal living overwhelming. The emotional labor and the numerous meetings required for intentional living took a toll on me, leading to my decision to leave the community after five years.

Despite the difficulties, I cherish the sense of belonging and the shared rituals of daily life. While I now live a more traditional domestic life with a private yard, I still hold on to the dream of finding better ways to live. I continue to engage with the community through volunteering and local events, contributing to the social fabric of my neighbourhood.

In the end, what truly matters are the shared experiences of joy, sorrow, and everything in between. Cohousing may not be for everyone, but the communal experiences and connections forged are undeniably valuable. And that, above all, is a testament to the power of collective living.