By Jessica Lim

WITH the economy's predicted lack of 'Ox-piciousness' this year, it was probably not the best time for me to make the decision to move out of the family home and share a flat with friends.

But it was an experience that could not wait - not for money or approval for US President Barack Obama's stimulus package.

In my heart and soul, I knew it was something I needed, to cultivate a sense of self within a space that was all mine.

During better times, just 11/2 years ago, I wrote a column about how I saw no need to move out because it was costly. But it seems the bad economic reality now has triggered the opposite reaction in me.

Rents have fallen since then, making the cost of flying the coop less of a hit on the pocket. In the meantime, a year's maturing meant I was now moving out for the right reasons, and not just because I could not stand living under my parents' roof.

The change has been drastic, to say the least.

Now I watch my spending more carefully - I have to - and take greater care of my possessions. I make sure not to leave a mess behind for others to clear, because I'm the only 'others' there is in the flat.

I was spared these 'revelations' at home, where my mother waded through the clothes strewn on my bedroom floor, remarked on my oblivion to the mess, then cleaned up after me.

Sure, I miss all that.

But now that I am finally getting to exert ownership, I am more fastidious about housekeeping. I now keep my room - which I proudly painted a deep purple and decorated with an array of Ikea furniture - as neat as a new pin.

The decision to leave the roost, for the first time since I attended university in the United States, was not an easy one.

I do not live in a society which stigmatises living with one's parents.

In the US, adults in their 20s who permanently occupy room in their parents' homes are given derogatory labels like 'parasite singles'. In England, they are called Boomerang kids - because they come back home after university.

In Australia, they are written off as 'kippers' - the abbreviation for Kids In Parents' Pockets Eroding Retirement Savings.

In Singapore, these kippers are accepted, beloved even, as being practical, filial and, well, the norm.

So I had my fair share of naysayers when I made my decision.

When I announced that I was moving into my own place, and opting to pay rent in the face of a less-than-rosy economy, I got little support from my peers - mostly, happy kippers.

One, a 35-year-old, thought he had hit the nail on the head: I had moved out because I wanted to bring boys home.

The older generation, too, was disapproving. They labelled it a case of parental abandonment.

Others thought I must be getting married. (I'm not.)

But I am not that fussed.

I can see now why my mother actually urged me to leave the roost. She planted newspaper classifieds, and told me how she herself moved out to live on her own when she was 25. She encouraged me and, in fact, made it much easier.

It hit me just last week.

As I scanned supermarket isles and settled on a 5kg bag of housebrand anti-bacterial detergent, I was filled with an inexplicable sense of freedom.

There was no one to tell me which brand to buy, no one to argue that liquid detergent was better and no one to pick out the cheaper alternative.

The answer was out there for me to discover.

This article was first published in The Straits Times on February 02, 2009.