I moved back home for a year between undergrad and grad school. They didn’t kick me out, but they made it progressively less comfortable for me to live there. I know they meant well, but it really didn’t help matters and it nearly ruined my relationship with them. I wasn’t a deadbeat, I had a part time job and spent a lot of time searching for graduate programs, studying for GREs, etc. But they were convinced that unless they made sure I was miserable I would never leave. I told them “look, as soon as I get into a program I’ll be gone for good and you’ll be telling me that I never visit/call, etc.” They would counter with “Yeah, and how are you going to pay for this hypothetical apartment and these hypothetical graduate tuition bills?” They never believed me when I explained I would actually be PAID to go to school.
Yep. I was 18, ready to go to college, wanted to visit an out of state boy friend at his parents house, and they said “if you go, don’t come back.”
I never did.
My mother would have loved for us to stay at home for as long as possible. We had an agreement that once I landed a good, full-time job that I could stay with mny parents and pay a token rent ($50 per week from memory) as long as I saved for a house. This was back in 1995 or there abouts, before the housing market here went crazy.
After a year & a half of saving about 60% of my pay packet I had enough to put a good deposit on a small 3-bedroom place & move out. I was 24 at the time.
I grew up with a single father after my mom passed away when I was 11. When I was 18, my dad was pissed that I was going to a community college, drinking occasionally and generally not living up to my potential. He very strongly pressured me to move out. Also, when I turned 18 until I graduated high school, I had started getting my own Social Security Survivors Benefits checks instead of him, and he wasn’t very happy about that. One day we got into an argument about me not doing the dishes in a timely manner, I stormed out and went to my boyfriend’s house, and he told me not to come back. Since then, I have not been allowed to spend the night at his house under any circumstances, unless it’s Christmas Eve.
I have mixed feelings about this. We always had a rocky relationship and my dad was just short of actually abusive. I was enormously relieved to not have to deal with him anymore. I got to have many exciting life experiences that my friends with more supportive parents didn’t have, and I’m probably more self sufficient than some people my age (22). On the other hand, with more family support I would have probably not dropped out of college and became a homeless drug addict for a while, so there’s that.
No, but they would have if I hadn’t moved on. I was back with them after my first job out of college didn’t pan out for a total of about six months. Once I had landed a reasonable job, I was out on my own, and over the following year, I’ve transitioned into near-total independence. (I pay my own cell phone, car insurance, and the like. The only way that they still support me is that I go back to their place to use their washer and dryer.) But if I hadn’t moved out once I had a job, they’d have kicked me out.
My little sister still uses them as a fallback, but she doesn’t actually sleep under their roof more than one month out of the year. Mostly she’s working for non-profits in Latin America, and when she’s waiting tables back in town to fund those expeditions, she always house sits and sleeps home only when between housesitting gigs.
When my mom died we did the strip the place and fast thing. I heard that when the old man returned he bellowed. 
I also had emancipated minor status. “Here Mom, sign this.”