When I picture my future, I don’t see a white picket fence, a partner unloading groceries from the car, or children playing in the backyard. Instead, I imagine something closer to a scene from the “Golden Girls”: a cosy home filled with laughter, a kitchen table where friends gather to gossip, and a sense of belonging that doesn’t depend on romance.
As a millennial woman, the cultural script handed to me was pretty clear: adulthood meant finding a partner and, eventually, having kids. Friendships, while cherished, were positioned as secondary, almost disposable once “real life” began. But as I’ve moved into my 30s, I’ve felt an increasing pull to resist that script.
I’ve started asking: What if friendships weren’t just the backdrop to life, but the foundation? In my daydreams, it’s a cluster of tiny homes by the water with my closest friends, where we tend a shared garden, cook family meals and live life side by side.
It turns out plenty of us are dreaming about — or activating — a “Golden Girls”-style future.
In Canada, roommate households were the fastest-growing household type in the country as of 2022, having increased by 54 per cent from 2001 to 2021.
Six per cent of homeowners share ownership with someone other than a spouse or partner, according to a survey by Leger for Royal LePage real estate, and a third of realtors have noticed an increase in homebuyers looking to co-buy. Often, this is because sharing ownership makes buying a home more affordable, especially for single people.
Rising housing costs, a dating scene that feels like a full-time job, and a craving for deep connection are pushing many of us to picture our futures less like a couple’s rom-com, and more like a communal sitcom. To see friends as partners in life — not just in fun, but in responsibility, planning and even legacy.
“I do see a cultural shift, though it’s still outside the norm,” said Toronto-based relationship coach Victoria Yeung. “Thanks to the internet, we’re starting to hear about more alternative future-planning set-ups, like friends raising a child together, roommates combining income, groups pooling resources to start small communities. As dating and marriage norms shift, more possibilities start to surface.”
As popular TikTok creator Kendra Austin, who lives with her best friend, explained in a video, “We care for each other in the same way we expected partners to. And now, I can speak for myself, I’m actually much more clear on what it is that I’m looking [for in] a partnership, because I’m being taken care of, baby. We take care of our home together, we build a gorgeous life together. And this is something that can be achieved.”
Building a home with a friend
In 2021, after years of planning, Sarah Scanlon and her best friend, Jen, bought a home together in Guelph, Ont. This wasn’t a backup plan or a second-best option: For Scanlon, it was an intentional choice to build her life around the relationships that made her feel most grounded.
“I’ve always known living alone with a partner wasn’t the right fit for me,” Scanlon said. “In that setup, my partner automatically becomes the default person I spend most of my time with. Choosing to live with Jen means I’m more likely to ask myself, ‘Who do I want to spend this time with?’ Sometimes the answer is my partner, sometimes it’s a friend, sometimes it’s myself.”
After dating in their early twenties, the pair transitioned into a friendship that has lasted over a decade. “We had lots of practice working through conflict and a lot of trust in each other,” Scanlon said. “We kept choosing each other, even as our lives changed.”
Their arrangement is carefully thought through. They met with a lawyer, drew up a co-ownership agreement and created a joint account to cover bills and emergency expenses. They also committed to regular check-ins, both financial and emotional. “We bring up issues early, before resentment builds,” Scanlon explained. “Our shared value is that home should feel grounding and safe.”
It’s not always easy. A kitchen renovation nearly broke them. But for Scanlon, the joy outweighs the challenges. “It’s one of the best decisions I’ve made in my life,” she said. “We’re not living together because something is missing in our romantic lives. We’re doing it because this is the future we want.”
This kind of platonic arrangement is still unusual, because it goes against an extremely entrenched norm. “The dominant culture places romantic love at the very top of a relationship hierarchy,” said Yeung. “Patriarchy teaches women their value derives from being desired by men, married to a man, and being a mother. In this hierarchy, friendship doesn’t hold the same weight.”
These norms inform our legal and financial institutions, like those involved with home ownership. “You’re not legally bound to each other, you’re not family, so we tend to see it as temporary or less serious,” says Yeung.
One step at a time
For 27-year-old Mia Cosco, moving in with friends was partly about surviving a brutal B.C. rental market. When she and two colleagues realized they all needed to find housing at the same time, they decided to pool their resources.
“It’s rough out there. At this point, a landlord could spit on you and you’d still beg them for an apartment,” Cosco said. “But as three full-time working women, we felt we’d be seen as trustworthy tenants.”
Cosco and her friends are relatively new to each other. “We haven’t had a lot of practical discussions yet but we all know what it’s like to earn and save money,” Cosco said. “We want to support each other while we figure things out.”
Their motives for sharing a home differ. Some see co-living as a temporary solution, others long-term. For Cosco, the house is both a stepping stone and a sanctuary. She’s on a work visa that runs until 2026, so her time in the home has a natural end point, but she sees the value of this arrangement, of weaving her future through her friendships.
“It helps us stay connected as we change jobs or go through different stages,” she said. “Even if it’s temporary, it feels important.”
Rethinking what’s possible
Of course, building a life with friends requires effort. Strong friendships don’t just happen; they need structure and investment, just like marriages do. That might mean having uncomfortable money talks, setting boundaries around space, or building in rituals of appreciation and connection.
But there’s freedom in this way of living. It allows us to honour autonomy while still sharing resources and emotional labour. It recognizes that support systems can take many forms.
“We’re told that if you haven’t found The One, you’re missing out on the best part of being human,” Yeung said. “But how limiting is that? Love, connection, intimacy and commitment absolutely exist outside of romance. To believe otherwise robs us of so much.”
I want to live in a world where choosing your best friend as your co-pilot is as celebrated as choosing a spouse. Where future-proofing your friendships is seen as a sign of maturity, not immaturity. Where we measure success not by how closely we follow the nuclear family blueprint, but by how fully we live by our values.
Maybe that looks like a co-owned sprawling old house with mismatched mugs and a chore chart. Maybe it looks like a condo where three women share rent and pizza nights. Or maybe it looks like a chosen family sitting on a porch, reminiscing about the lives they’ve built over decades.
That’s the future I’m planning for.
