Nothing. I was the last kid off the college and my parents sold the house when I was 20. True story: they sold the house and didn’t tell me. I called them the night before I was coming for Thanksgiving and got a recording that the number had changed. I was like WTF? I called the new number, my father answered and said “didn’t we tell you we moved?” And I wonder why 40 years later I’m in therapy.
My bedroom stayed “my” bedroom until I moved out after I graduated college. For years after that, it was the guest room and my husband and I would sleep there on the few occasions we spent the night with my parents. Once we moved back and were living across the road (so no need to spend the night with them), it was a guest room for a couple more years until my mom began working from home and converted it into her home office. Now that she’s retired, it’s her craft room and my brother’s room is the de facto guest room.
My mom moved when I was freshman in college. Upstairs there were two bedrooms and the area at teh top of the stairs that my mom used as a overflow bedroom. I got to choose a room, and uses it throughout college and a year after while searching for a job.
After I moved out it remained a bedroom, and I would pick it if it was available ( I don’t remember if it ever was unavailable)
When my mom died one my sisters bought the house as a vacation house. “my” room is still a bedroom and I still pick it if it is available – there have been times when I got assigned the other bedroom or even the couch downstairs (there are two rooms downstairs that could easily be bedrooms, one is, and the other is the TV room – that is where I slept)
Brian
When I went away to university I was dismayed to find that my parents had covered the painted portion of my bedroom walls with ungodly ugly wallpaper. Without informing me of the change, I might add. To be fair, they did the same thing to my older brother’s old bedroom, which I suspect is what drove them to do mine as well, but he at least got color coordinated wallpaper, while mine wasn’t. After that, I then slowly took over his old room and abandoned mine.
Yeah, this SNL short covers it pretty well:
My room and my brothers room are basically kept as guest bedrooms. Most of our stuff from before college is long gone or in storage
I have a friend who was in that situation. He was in his early thirties, yet he’d go home for the holidays and sleep in his room that still looked like an 18-year-old boy’s room: walls adorned with posters and memorabilia of his favorite sports teams, TV shows, movies, and popular music idols, NFL-themed bedspread, late-90’s computer complete with CRT monitor on the desk in the corner etc.
When I was away at school my parents sold the house and moved out. My mom cleaned out my room and found and threw out my 3 playboys (from the ‘70s). She made a point of telling me that. 
My father seized on the opportunity of a vacated bedroom to move a bunch of house plants in there.
My room was immediately seized by one of my two younger brothers. The room he had vacated became a spare bedroom/sewing room. Most of my stuff was packed up or moved with me, and the remainder moved to that room.
My parents moved three years later and only the youngest moved with them. When visiting I usually slept on the spare bed in the nook at the back of his room, my other brother usually slept on the pull out couch in the upstairs multi-purpose room.
My room stayed as it was throughout my college years and for a couple of years after that, until I was married. Then it became an office.
My room had housed me and my sister, so it was the larger of the two kids’ bedrooms in our three bedroom house. My sister moved out when I was twelve, and I stayed on in our bigger bedroom, though it was hinted I ought to switch with my older brother.
When I moved out, my brother immediately moved into my old room, and my mom promptly filled up his old bedroom with her hobby stuff, i.e., fabrics and quilts and whatnot. When I visited, I had to sleep on the living room floor in a sleeping bag. One or two occurrences of this and I started checking into a local hotel when I visited, much to my mother’s dismay. I didn’t want to tell her that the living room floor carpet was dirty and full of food crumbs, as her eyesight wasn’t the best at this point. I just said I was too old to sleep on a floor, TYVM.
My room remained unchanged for several years after I left college. It made coming home so comfortable whenever I visited. The book I was reading two months earlier was still on the night stand. It encouraged me to visit more often for three day weekends.
My parents built a new place and I started using a guest room for visits. It never really felt like home anymore. I loved seeing my parents but it certainly felt different. More formal. If they went to bed at ten then I went to the guest room. It didn’t seem appropriate to hang out in the den watching TV alone. I didn’t raid the fridge for a snack. I was in their house. Not mine.
Left as it was, for a couple of years, then my younger brother moved into it because it was bigger than his. His was left empty. Family moved into a smaller house a year or so after younger brother moved out (empty nest and all that).
Same here, as the oldest kid I got the good room. Our house was a 4 bedroom ranch, and the master and 2 of the 3 bedrooms were in the bedroom wing of the house, the master had its own en-suite bathroom, and the other two bedrooms shared a bath.
My room, the 4th bedroom, was in the basement under the living room/kitchen - literally as far away from the master bedroom as possible, and it had its own bathroom—- a really small one with a small stall shower - no tub - but it was all mine. Much later in time my brother got divorced and moved back home to help care for my aging mom and he moved into the basement, using the large rec room adjacent to that bedroom as his living room.
There were five of us kids in two bedrooms with the girls’ room and the boys’ room. After a while, I had the girls’ room and my younger brother was in the boys’ room then I moved out and it became storage.
Later my mother split off the second floor into an apartment and she moved her bedroom downstairs. My wife and I stayed on air mattresses in the living room.
After that she moved from Utah to Georgia to be close to my sister.
I went to a local 4 year State College. I was told, in no uncertain terms, to get my own place cuz Mom isn’t paying for this rental house anymore. It was my 6th bedroom in 6 years.
But i survived.
I actually moved back into my parents’ place and my old bedroom when I started college. Had been on my own for a few years prior. It had been used as a sort of storage room in the interim.
Sort of a hijack but, what did the buffalo say when his boy left for college?
Bi son.
Last of 3 kids.
Two weeks before I was to leave for college, we boxed up all of my things, and my father made me redo carpets and repaint the room. My things went with me to college, and the rest of my stuff was stored in the closet. It became the second guest room.
To say they were happy to be empty-nesters is an understatement.
It was fairly final in my case. I still had my room in my childhood home for the first year I was a University student, but between my Freshman and Sophomore years my folks moved to California (I helped them move and drove across country). I stayed in town and kept attending the university.
During this move, my personal bedroom disappeared. There was a primary guest room designated as “mine” whenever I visited, but I never lived there, nor was it a permanent home to my stuff. That stuff all had to stay with me or in storage from that point on (age 19).