I think my Dad would turn in his grave if he knew I was still at home in my mid-thirties without a bloody good reason / very particular extenuating circumstances. Note - 'saving up' and 'it's so hard out there for young people' do not qualify as bloody good reasons some fifteen years after you've come of age. Fortunately, I wasn't. And he wouldn't know anyway, on account of being dead. But you get the idea. There's a sensible mid-point in between 'I've done my bit, you're 18, on your own and out' and missing out on a decade or so of formative life experiences while you try to make your own way however you can - even if you do accept a bit of help or end-up back with the folks for periods along the way. But you should at least TRY goddammit.