Welcome back ladies and gentleladies of the internet. People tend to infantilize and romanticize teenage years. You'll hear middle-aged or older people claiming that their teens were the 'best years of their lives.' I don't know about you, but I adamantly disagree that my teens were the best years of my life. First of all, you are growing up and growing into yourself, both physically and emotionally, which is difficult for anyone to manage. Secondly, you have no autonomy! I know how much I wanted my independence as a teenager. As comfortable as it is to be financially cared for, void of real life responsibilities, I appreciate it far more to be autonomous, have control over my life, and be able to make my own decisions.
This brings us to the Reddit thread. In this story, the original poster (OP) is a teenager who decides he's not appreciated at home, and moves out of his parent's house. He seeks refuge in his grandparents, much to his mother's dismay.