Ten years ago this week I began one of the biggest adventures of my life. I became a home owner, as a single girl.
I don’t mind telling you that buying a house was a scary process. Or maybe it was deciding to buy a house that was the scary part. I was just as single then as I am now, and doubts of my ability to take care of a house bombarded me. Would I be able to afford the mortgage? And the utility bills? I wasn’t even sure how much heating and cooling a house would cost. What if something broke? Like something really big. But then, who am I kidding? I’m not at all handy so even a seemingly minor issue seems big to me. And then it’s not just the house; there’s the yard that has to be maintained.
So in my usual decision-making process I researched the heck out of buying a house. I learned about the house buying process, about narrowing down where I wanted to live and what I was looking for in a house. I got pre-approval from a lender to know how much house I could afford–according to the bank. Then, it was deciding how much of my savings I wanted to invest towards a house and how much of my income I was willing to put towards a mortgage. Lots of money stuff to think about.
But in the back of my mind, the fact of my singleness kept raising little doubts. If I couldn’t pay the mortgage and upkeep for a house, I’d be out on my ear. This was a HUGE purchase, and I was going into it…alone. Scary!
But 10 years later, I’m so glad I made the leap. I’ve been thinking back over the last decade and of all the things that have happened in this house, or because I own a house. Things like:
Taking care of Mom…
Bringing Sunny home as a kitten…Learning how to use a lawnmower…
Good memories. And it’s funny. Even when something really big happened–like when walls started separating and I learned I would need foundation piers to fix the problem–I survived. Somehow it wasn’t the catastrophe that I imagined.
So I don’t really have a purpose in writing this post today other than to remember those that have no home and to be thankful for the abundant blessings I’ve been given. My house still has old formica counter tops in the kitchen, windows with weather stripping flapping in the breeze, and carpet with a few spots here and there, but my house is home.
And lawnmowers and overgrown bushes aside, I can’t think of any place I’d rather be than right where I am.
Talk to me:
Where do you live?
If you could live anywhere you wanted, where would it be?