For about two years, my ex-gf and I lived in a one-bedroom basement flat where the living room had a 6-foot stud (ie, you couldn't take clothes off over your head). We used curtains for doors, which I see is on Chuck Wendig's drinking game list. The bedroom and kitchen had maybe an 8-foot stud, and you had to go outside to get to the toilet. But we managed to cram three couches, two bookcases, two cats and a couple of guitars into the living room, and had friends over a lot (the tall ones had to kind of stoop till they got to the couches), and it was fun and manageable. I liked that it made me disciplined about clutter and resolving relationship niggles (nowhere to hide!), and it was super-easy to heat. Also, the location was excellent -- close to shops and town -- and we had enough lawn that in good weather we spent a lot of time outside.

But that was twenty years ago. I wouldn't go back. And even that was probably more spacious than many of the tiny houses. o.O

These days, the idea of not having a separate bedroom gives me hives. (I had a studio apartment when I was single, but I was young and poor.) In fact, for the 16 years (so far) of my current relationship, the boy and I have lived in separate houses! Ha!