Is Your Partner a Hobosexual?

We’ve all heard of gold diggers and commitment-phobes, but there’s a new archetype quietly moving in, literally. The hobosexual: someone who dates not for love, lust, or long walks in the park, but for the most seductive resource of all — a place to live.

Unlike the romantic notion of the bohemian who drifts out of choice, the hobosexual is more strategic. They charm their way into your life, and your flat, often arriving with a duffel bag and staying well past what could reasonably be called a “sleepover.”

At first, they’re exciting, spontaneous, perhaps even intense. But give it a few weeks, and they’re "between jobs," suspiciously invested in your Netflix login, and have no concrete plans to go… anywhere.

There’s a fine line between moving in together and someone simply moving in. One is a mutual step forward. The other involves a toothbrush, three carrier bags, and a suspicious lack of future plans.

If you think you might be in some sort of a similar situation but aren't sure, before you run accusing them of being hobosexuals ask yourself: are you dating a hobosexual, or are they simply enduring a chaotic housing market while being incredibly, irresistibly into you?

Here's how to tell: They arrived with a weekend bag and dreams — and now it’s a drawer; they cook dinner exactly once — then eat yours forever; their last known address? “Kinda here, innit?”; they refer to your home as “ours,” but rent day? Crickets.

Now, not every underemployed poet or freelance DJ is a hobosexual. But if your partner's primary love language is “access to a warm shower,” it might be time for a relationship MOT.

Still, let’s be honest: some hobosexuals are incredibly seductive. They tell great stories. They’re emotionally available. They do that thing in bed. But just because someone can work a duvet doesn’t mean they deserve permanent residency under yours.

So if someone gets a little too comfortable, ask yourself: is this love… or just logistics? Because a relationship should never be built on lust, lies, and the promise of clean towels.