🏘️ The Rise of Co-Living and Multi-Generational Homes in Canada

I grew up in Surrey in the ’90s — smack dab in the centre of the city, in a mostly middle-income neighbourhood, bordering newly-built communities and some that were a bit more… aged.

Large, multi-generational homes were becoming noticeably prominent, particularly among South Asian families. They were nice homes — big, bright, and busy. Grandma, parents, kids, sometimes aunties and uncles too. Someone was always home when you knocked, and if you were lucky, there’d be a plate of spicy snacks offered up.

What struck me even as a teenager was how different this felt from the “norm” of my home — a single-family, split-level house with a few of us around, depending on the day. Both of my parents were hardworking, and I knew we were fortunate to have what we did. But with my dad on shift work and my mom full-time as we got older, my sister and I sometimes had the run of the house (no complaints from us).

I also noticed conversations around these larger homes weren’t always so kind. Some neighbours muttered about “illegal suites,” too many cars on the street, or families “cheating the system”. Looking back, it feels clear: what seemed unconventional — even stigmatised — back then is now being recognised as one of the smartest ways to live.

Fast-forward to today, and multi-generational living is one of the fastest-growing household types in Canada. In 2021, more than 2.4 million Canadians lived in multi-generational households — representing roughly 6% of the population and marking growth of over 20% in the last decade. It’s no longer a cultural footnote; it’s a mainstream response to rising housing costs, changing family needs, and a desire for more connection.

As a former Realtor, I saw firsthand how drastically housing prices changed between 2008 and now. Even with recent softening, serious affordability challenges remain, and people are rethinking the single-family house as the only dream. That rethink isn’t just financial — it’s cultural, practical, and even emotional.

This topic has started hitting close to home. My partner and I have talked about pooling together with family — partly because we’re raising a toddler with Type 1 Diabetes and grandparents would make life and caregiving easier. I’d also love to live closer to my sister and her kids. And then there’s my 90-year-old Nonna, still living independently — a little too far away for comfort. A setup where we’re closer together feels both strategic and deeply human.

Especially when I think of Nonna.

In the most Italian grandmother way possible, she’s nagged me (an elder millennial) for decades about “when I’d give her a great-grandchild.” I’m so grateful she’s here and healthy, but the distance — and the juggle of motherhood — makes visits less frequent, even as the need for connection grows stronger. Nonna’s still sharp, but her fading English (and hearing) bring daily challenges, and with the wider family sprawled across the Lower Mainland, loneliness creeps in.

So what’s next for her? Good question. My parents are looking to downsize, and the rest of us don’t have space — condos and townhouses aren’t built to accommodate these shifts in family life. She loves us, of course, but Nonna’s still too clever to leave the community she knows to come squeeze in with one of us.

But a family commune? There’s something compelling here… and it would be a dream (dare I say it? 👀) to plant roots — and an Italian-inspired garden — in a big yard.

In reality though, it’s complicated. My family is scattered between Langley, South Surrey, Richmond, and Burnaby. Any solution would mean compromise, big financial decisions, and likely selling homes in a tough market without the next place locked in.

And of course, it’s not just families exploring these questions. More Canadians are looking at non-traditional arrangements too — pooling resources with friends, trusted partners, or like-minded households. It’s an appealing idea, but it also brings a new layer of complexity: how do you structure financing, divide ownership, and handle what happens if someone wants out?

Whether family-based or friend-based, these are the same tough questions many of us are asking right now. And yet, more and more people are finding creative answers.

I’ve seen inspiring examples of real people making this work…

Our Urban Village is a 3-storey, 12-unit, strata-titled cohousing development built by Tomo (short for “Together More”). Residents live in private units (similar to a condo suite) but share common spaces intentionally designed for connection. I visited in 2023 with my one-year-old in tow and shared a wonderful Mexican dinner with some of the cohousers in their communal dining room. I learned that residents regularly prepared group dinners (in designated “shifts”) most days of the week. It was lovely. And it worked.

Featured in Daily Hive and a YouTube video with nearly 2.5 million views in early 2025, this Delta-based project brought four related owners together in one thoughtfully designed build. Independent spaces, woven together — this local example resonated so much that I immediately shared it to my family WhatsApp group.

Across the country, other models are emerging too: cooperative housing projects, student–senior home-share programs, and various creative cohousing projects. These aren’t just niche experiments — they’re proof that Canadians are building alternatives.

Policy is slowly catching up. In B.C., new multiplex zoning rules now allow for small-scale multi-unit housing on most single-family lots. Federally, there’s a tax credit to support multi-generational renovations, offering families some relief when adding a separate suite for a senior or adult with a disability. And in 2023, Ottawa launched a co-operative housing development program worth over $1 billion to help create new non-market homes.

But none of this erases the challenges. Financing is complex when multiple households are involved. Legal agreements about ownership and exit strategies are essential but intimidating. And even when zoning allows for creative projects, the soft costs and municipal approvals can run into the hundreds of thousands.

Still, with demand comes supply — at least professionally. Service providers with growing expertise are becoming easier to track down in some parts of the country: designers, builders, realtors, mortgage brokers, and lawyers who specialise in co-ownership or cohousing arrangements. These experts don’t remove the complexity, but they’re helping more Canadians take steps that would have felt impossible even a decade ago.

And despite the barriers, there’s momentum — and a noticeable cultural shift. The stigma I heard in the ’90s is giving way to curiosity, interest, and even aspiration.

I’m convinced that the future of Canadian housing will look more like this: a mix of multi-generational setups, co-ownership, and creative housing forms that reflect the way people actually want to live. And technology — from emerging proptech tools to financing innovations — will likely play a role in making these options easier.

This piece is just a start. Through Canada Now, I’ll keep unpacking the stories, policies, and practical tools shaping this movement — from the financing puzzle to the real-life families making it work.

So let me ask: have you ever thought about co-living, co-buying, or creating a multi-generational setup? If so, I’d love to hear your story.

PS. I’ll be diving deeper into this theme (among others) on the Canada Now podcast… first episode dropping soon! 🎙

If you’re a fan of Canadian innovation and curated Canadian content, check out some of my other favourite newsletters on Beehiiv! 🐝👇

— Ashley Smith (@ashleysmithnow)