I relate.

The last time I needed to move back in with my mother, I was in my late 30's. And even at that age, I was subject to "my house, my rules." It meant being told what time to go to bed, being awakened in the morning when she called for me, eating only what she cooked, listening only to the music she liked, watching the television shows she wanted to see, and having to do the chores she assigned to me. (Not that I mind doing my share of the housework, but I'd rather have been given an area of responsibility and then left to do it my way, on my own terms, rather than with her standing over me supervising like I was 10 freaking years old.)

Complicate the matter with the fact that I cannot see well enough to drive, and she lives in a rural area. No public transportation. Which meant that I went only to places that she was willing to take me. Since she doesn't go to church, then, I wasn't allowed to go. Couldn't have someone else come and pick me up. She was afraid that having a church van come to her door would make her neighbors think she was "needy," and her image to the neighbors was more important than my happiness.

And when I confronted her on it, she scolded me for talking back, just as if I was still a child.

The next time I found myself without a place to go, I went to a doggone homeless shelter. I had more freedom there.