"A lot of people of my age aren't comfortable making long-term commitments - like meeting a partner and building a relationship - when they don't have control over where they live."

Pip Moss, a 26-year-old paralegal,wanted the security of being able to plan a future. So, 18 months ago, he moved from London to Manchester. And he is not alone.

A whole generation of 15 to 35-year-olds, commonly known as millennials, is struggling. Unable to buy a place to live and fighting to secure a well-paid, permanent job, some are moving city or even country simply to attain the standard of living that their parents have.

The next steps of getting married and raising a family seem like distant dreams. The outlook is not just difficult for individuals and young couples, it also has serious implications for the Jewish community.

This week, a study by the Resolution Foundation revealed the extent of financial insecurity facing young adults. Twenty-somethings in work are on average being paid £8,000 less than the generation before. They are less likely to receive off-the-job training, one-third less likely to be able to move jobs to gain better pay, and are likely to become the first generation to earn less than the one before. They are also far less likely to own a home because house prices have climbed on average seven per cent a year since 1980, while wages have fallen.

We have to live with our parents

The so-called Rent Generation have earned that title the hard way, paying on average £25,000 more in real terms in rent in their twenties than those born 1966-1980, and £44,000 more than the baby boomers born 1946-1965.

Marriage is a remote prospect for most in their mid-20s, not because this generation is immature or irresponsible, but because they are attempting to build a long-term relationship on shaky or non-existent foundations.

Pip Moss's move to Manchester is typical of his generation. "My move was almost solely motivated by the fact that I couldn't see any path while living London to the sort of life my parents had, or even some semblance of it."

He saw lawyer friends earning up to £60,000, moving out of London after struggling for years to find a home.

"I didn't see any way that when I was thirty I could have a house, a career, and know what my thirties and forties would look like. The numbers didn't add up."

Leaving everything he had grown up with, from his social life to his shul, was the price he paid to "have a life which I have some control over.

"In Manchester, I can buy a house - with my parents' help - and start building a stake in a community. In London, I couldn't, because you have to beat some very nasty odds just to make a life for yourself.

"An entire generation's life chances and plans are being eaten alive by the London property market."

He believes that some people are angry with the older generation because "hard work used to be close to a guarantee of a good life, now that's nowhere near true.

"As the years go by, people are further and further from where their parents were at their age, despite working hard."

If this trend continues, it could lead to the fragmentation of previously tight-knit communities and the uprooting of traditional cultural centres. It is hard to maintain a culture when you cannot maintain rent.

Middle-class children who were told to follow their dreams, who were convinced that they could build a life near home in a career they felt passionate about, have found that, in this decade, it is almost impossible.

One such millennial, 25-year-old Alex Revens, loves London and his job as a primary school teacher but is planning to move to New Zealand in the next three years.

"When I see people who have moved abroad and have these lovely lives while doing the same job as me, it's very depressing," he says. He sees no alternative but to join the exodus.

He will live with his parents until he emigrates because, as he sees it, moving out before then would represent a crippling waste of money.

"I don't know anyone renting who isn't paying an extortionate amount which will surely stop them from buying their own property without help from their family. If I want to buy anywhere in the next 10 years, there is absolutely no way I can move out. I'm not in a job that pays very well and I don't have savings.

"I pay my parents £200 a month, out of respect more than anything. They don't ask; I pay out of choice."

He said that he was "very lucky" to have a family that affords him respect and independence within his parents' house, as any other option was unthinkable.

"They'd like me to move out soon, but they know I don't have too much of a choice.

"It's a shame, because I love London - it's the best city in the world. But it's simply impossible to stay."

He rejects the stereotype that millennials are lazy, saying: "We want to rely on ourselves more, but we can't. Everything's just too much."

Sophie Graham, a 25-year-old who works in digital marketing, says that the main difference she sees between her generation and the previous one was "the decision we have to make between independence and money.

"It's nigh-on impossible once you've moved out to save up any money to buy your own place, unless you work in banking, so half my friends live at home because they can deal with their parents, and the other half are renting because it was worth it for the independence."

Sophie rents with a friend, and does not see home-owning as a realistic prospect before her mid-30s.

"Possibly in 10 years, I could maybe imagine owning a house. But, right now, the only realistic way to own a house for any of us lot is to inherit one. Which is insane."

There is fear and anger among many young adults about the effect of Brexit, emotions which are often directed towards older people.

"There is a lot of anger towards older generations who have made decisions that will directly impact our lives and not theirs," says Sophie.

"I almost think that, if you're not going to be alive to experience something, why should you have a say in it? In the same way that, if you're not a citizen of the country you don't get a vote, they won't be citizens in a few years when this all pans out."

TV researcher Natalija Sasic, 27, managed to find a permanent job only a few months ago, having previously failed to do so despite qualifying from a prestigious university with an impressive degree.

Natalija owns a north London home with her fiancé, but they could only afford the property because they had help from their parents.

"I would count us in the extremely fortunate minority."

She has let friends stay free for a couple of months. Other friends have moved from North London to Croydon.

She pointed out the vast difference in circumstances that her parents found when they moved to London in their thirties.

"I grew up in a two-bedroom maisonette - which was the smallest home of any of my friends. Now there is absolutely no way that anyone without high savings and income could afford that property."

Rabbi Laura Janner-Klausner, the senior rabbi of the Movement for Reform Judaism is very concerned about the implications for the Jewish community, and has been for some time.

"If we want people to be able to live near their families, remain members of their shuls and buy housing, we need to lobby for affordable housing near where Jews live now.

"We need communal planning on housing and working out where the developments should be; we need to lobby the government, create communal schemes for financing and loans, and to work out how we keep Jewish communities together.

She also believes the community must offer an alternative childcare system to help young families.

Rabbi Janner-Klausner says communal bodies have acknowledged the issues, but far more needs to be done. "The focus has been on political concerns - which are very real - but we will do more to sustain Jews by sorting out childcare and housing rather than dealing with outward-facing politics. We really need to focus on that."