صاحب‌خبر - I was a single parent to an eight-year-old, balancing parenting and part-time work with completing a master’s degree in 2020. My son and I lived in a converted Queenslander, and despite its somewhat faded charm and convenient location, the flat had no living room, back yard, ceiling fans or air-conditioning. We got by with limited space until lockdowns meant I spent almost all of my time at the kitchen table – working, completing uni assignments, trying to homeschool a very active child, writing, eating and socialising via Zoom. By the middle of the year I was dreaming of an alternative home with more space, even though I didn’t think I could afford it. How I created a single-parent support network: ‘You never stop relying on the village’ Read more In the same year I moved in with a friend, Jen. Although Jen and I had never lived together, we had known each other since high school, and we knew each other’s families. I was friends with her partner and most importantly, I trusted her with my child. Our combined income meant we could afford a three-bedroom house with air-con and a huge back yard – big enough for a trampoline, a Hills Hoist, a veggie patch and an out-of-control passionfruit vine. For the first time in my son’s life he had space for hide and seek and back yard birthday parties. My outgoings were also drastically reduced; Jen and I opened a joint bank account and shared bills, groceries, petrol and household necessities. My experience is mirrored in many ways by Lenine Bourke, a renter from Brisbane who co-parents her 12-year-old with her ex-partner and solo parents her six-year-old. Bourke has lived in many iterations of shared housing since becoming a parent. “When my eldest was little, my partner and I lived with my best mate in Sydney so we could afford a beachside unit. And then when I became a single parent I rented a house in Brisbane and often had other people living in my spare room – friends, nannies, even my mum for a while,” she says. View image in fullscreen Lenine Bourke (front) and her kids live upstairs, while Coonan (back) lives downstairs with his children. Photograph: Jamila Filippone/The Guardian Bourke says shared living is a “game-changer” for single parents like herself. “I work 20 hours a week in the not-for-profit sector and I’m a full-time carer for one of my kids who has complex disabilities. Being able to reduce my overheads is the only way I can survive.” Housing and financial hardship are two of the biggest concerns facing single parents in Australia, says Jenny Davidson, CEO of the Council of Single Mothers and their Children (CSMC). “Housing has been in our top issues for over a decade,” she says. “Yet despite that long history, it’s worse than ever, and it’s probably going to get worse before it gets better.” Sign up for the fun stuff with our rundown of must-reads, pop culture and tips for the weekend, every Saturday morning Single parents are disproportionately affected by what Davidson describes as the “double whammy” of affordability and availability, saying “we frequently hear from single mothers who have applied for 40, 60, 100 rental properties”. Even when single parents can afford to live alone, they’re often not considered suitable renters. “It’s really hard for a single-parent family to get on that shortlist taken to the owners.” In CSMC’s 2022 national survey of single mothers, respondents were found to experience homelessness or marginalised housing at over three times the national average. Shared living arrangements are a lifeline for people like Bourke, who is now in a more formalised version of shared living, in a dual-occupancy house owned by her friend Coonan. Sometimes I need to make a run down to the shared washing machine draped in a sarong, but I prepared Coonan for that Lenine Bourke “Coonan and I have known each other for a long time, and I knew he was looking for a long-term tenant. My rent kept going up but the house I was living in was falling apart and no maintenance was ever done, so I approached Coonan.” Bourke and her kids moved in upstairs, while Coonan lives downstairs with his three kids aged six, four and two. “Having a landlord can always be tricky, but having one that cares about me and my family with a three-year lease is amazing,” says Bourke. Davidson has seen the desire for co-living grow as a response to the cost-of-living crisis, with CSMC recently including a guide to shared housing on their website. CSMC also runs a closed Facebook group for single mothers looking for co-living solutions to the housing crisis, which Davidson says has “grown exponentially” to almost 3,000 members. skip past newsletter promotion Sign up to Saved for Later Free newsletter Catch up on the fun stuff with Guardian Australia's culture and lifestyle rundown of pop culture, trends and tips Enter your email address Sign upPrivacy Notice: Newsletters may contain info about charities, online ads, and content funded by outside parties. For more information see our Privacy Policy. We use Google reCaptcha to protect our website and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply. after newsletter promotion Older women like me are the ‘missing middle’ in Australia’s housing crisis | Maggie Shambrook Read more Aside from housing security, I’ve experienced other unexpected benefits to co-living. Jen had a geriatric cat, Pancakes, who became a much-loved member of our family. We were also able to pool resources – we set up a monthly savings goal and used the money to take holidays together. When I had to work late or attend an evening lecture, Jen looked after my son and prepared dinner. My mental load lightened significantly, and as a household we had the capacity to host regular dinners for other families, sending them home with plastic containers filled with leftovers. This sense of community and solidarity is one of the biggest benefits to shared living. It’s a way to combat what Davidson calls the “critical and ongoing” social isolation that single parents often face. Elle Sitek, a counsellor who runs an online resource for single mums called Beanstalk, says single parents “still seem to be very much struggling alone”. “From a mental health perspective, shared housing is a wonderful solution,” says Sitek. View image in fullscreen Co-living enabled Brooke’s son to have space for hide and seek and back yard birthday parties Bourke agrees: “When I come home after a rough day with the kids I can pop downstairs for a cuppa and a debrief with another queer single parent who understands my lived experiences.” Of course, it’s not all utopian living and rainbows. Davidson encourages parents to treat co-living on a case-by-case basis. “Think carefully before you move in with somebody, and try to come up with a list of critical things that you need to try to compare and contrast.” For Bourke, this meant having honest conversations about expectations and boundaries, as well as discussing the practicalities of co-living – “things like noise, sleep routines, car parks, yard access, rubbish removal, visitors, dating, and even sharing a washing machine”. With a laugh, Bourke adds: “Sometimes I need to make a run down to the shared washing machine draped in a sarong, but I prepared Coonan for that.” Single parents may have to compromise space and privacy depending on the types of dwellings available for co-living, says Davidson. Dual living properties are a popular option, but they can be hard to find. “Because we live in two separate dwellings on the same property, when the kids are dysregulated we can go to our own space to regroup, whereas I’ve had friends who shared one big house which involved a lot more negotiating when it came to parenting styles and the needs of the kids,” says Bourke. My big move: I was a single mum living in a sharehouse. A commune gave us a stable place to call home Read more This was echoed by other parents I’ve spoken with. Co-living arrangements seem to work best when participants already have long and established friendships, as do households where children are of similar ages, or where families have their own space for retreat. My co-living arrangement came to an end last year when Jen had a baby and moved in with her partner. I put off moving out of our house for over a year as I searched – without luck – for a suitable housemate. I’m about to make my fourth move since becoming a single parent eight years ago. In that time, rent in my pocket of Brisbane has risen astronomically – a two-bedroom flat now costs more than a three-bedroom house did in 2020. This puts me, along with many others, into what is classed as rental stress. Housing touches on many of the issues facing single parents, and co-living is often a choice made in response to these hardships. Davidson and Sitek believe that co-living is a viable option for single parents, with Sitek praising its combination of “financial, practical and emotional benefits”. When it works, shared living can reshape our understanding of what it means to be a family, and to have a home. Bourke agrees, saying “out of crisis often comes resilience”. “The co-housing model, whether it’s for financial, environmental, cultural or kinship reasons, can be a new way of living. Many of us are surviving under extreme circumstances, but we are finding interesting ways to make it work as best as possible.”∎​