Gemma Lewis and her boyfriend moved from London to Canada to live with her mom so she could pursue a writing career.
Courtesy of Gemma Lewis
At the beginning of the year, I knew I needed a change. I was feeling stuck in my job in London.I had always wanted to pursue writing but didn’t feel I could do it there. My boyfriend and I moved to Canada to live with my mom, and I’ve had success in my new path.
This year started at a crossroads. Working as a product manager in London seemed ideal — it was my 2023 goal to get that job, after all — but it didn’t feel quite right. I wasn’t working toward my calling, nor did I have any distinct sense of purpose.
Meanwhile, my passion for writing, a flame kindled since I wrote my first “book” at age 5, was quickly being smothered. I felt like I didn’t have the time or capacity to cultivate it.
I knew I needed a change.
The thought of quitting my job to pursue freelance writing was pretty irrational, if you judge rationality by safety and stability. Leaving behind the security of a regular paycheck for the uncertainty of freelancing was daunting. But from an ever-growing awareness that I was ignoring my heart (yes, I, too, can see what a cliché that is) came the need to break free.
So, on New Year’s Day, I made a good old-fashioned goals list. All I wanted was to be a published writer, and at that point, I was doing absolutely nothing to achieve that goal.
I knew what I needed to do technically (just write!), but the practicalities required a bit more thought.
We put our things in storage and moved to my mom’s house in Canada
Some “How can I make this happen?” back-of-the-envelope math ensued, suggesting I’d need to publish about 15 articles monthly to cover London rent and groceries. That didn’t include travel or transit, let alone how I’d cover a potential emergency. And it struck me as a highly restrictive mentality that would categorically not be conducive to creativity or risk-taking.
Enter: a bold decision.
Within 30 days, my boyfriend and I canceled our lease, tossed our belongings into storage, and left London.
He worked remotely, so the change was fairly straightforward for him. If anything, it was way better for his working hours, given most of his coworkers were in North America.
We initially figured this would be a short stint or a trial. We weren’t confident in how long we’d be testing out this new lifestyle for and weren’t sure what to do with our home full of things. So, instead of bringing our entire life with us, we hucked everything in storage.
All we knew was that the first step was a flight to my hometown on the West Coast of Canada, where the pace of life slowed, and the cost of living was somewhat more manageable.
However, the biggest factor in our being able to cut costs and turn a dream into reality was inevitably the fact that we were moving in with my mom.
My mom has been a single parent since my dad died 16 years ago. She’s always been strong but cautious, particularly when making parenting decisions that could either foster or hinder my independence. And there had been other times when I’d returned home, and she would try flexing that muscle with me.
I came back to my childhood home every summer throughout college. The first time I really moved back was the period between the end of one of my jobs and the beginning of my master’s program in Scotland. Then there was the eight-month stint when the pandemic began and my university shut its doors.
Throughout those stays, she’d suggested I pay rent to maintain my accountability. But this time, when I asked, “Can we be roommates again?” rent was the last thing on her mind.
She understood that this move wasn’t about regressing but about enabling me to pursue my dreams.
The author enjoys living with her boyfriend and mom.
Courtesy of Gemma Lewis
Our dynamic works for us
Living with my mom has, on the whole, been comforting and easy. There’s a sense of safety in being back in the house where I grew up, allowing me to focus on writing without the stress of making ends meet. We’ve also found a balance that respects our autonomy and interdependence.
That includes my boyfriend making his signature sourdough sandwiches at lunchtime, unclogging drains, and walking the dog in the pouring rain. We also contribute to groceries and gas — other necessities we’d never expect her to cover.
Since moving home, I’ve experienced publishing success. I’m finding a rhythm in my work that allows me to write with purpose, rather than out of necessity. I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing, and I’m doing it precisely where my obsession with writing and storytelling first began.
My boyfriend’s got his routine here too. He loves hitting up the community center, he has his favorite cafés, and he got a bike to cycle through the city’s mountainous landscape. He’s growing closer to the friends I grew up with, and even considers it one of his homes now.
Vancouver will be one of our three bases, with the others being San Francisco (where most of his friends and family are), and London (because our hearts really haven’t left). We’ll be leaving next week to try out some time with his family in San Francisco, and my mom’s thrilled that we’re going to be sharing a continent for the next little while.
The move confirmed that it isn’t just OK to lean on the people who love us, but also, that it can sometimes be entirely necessary. If it means taking a step ‘backward’ to start your business or work for yourself, it’s not a setback. It’s a strategic decision that leverages the good grace of having a safety net to fall back on. And for that, I’m endlessly grateful.
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