What I Wish I'd Known Before Buying a House Alone
It's a great financial move if you happen to receive a settlement from a near-fatal car accident. It's also stressful and lonely and I didn't know anything when I bought it.
In 2018 I made an uncharacteristically forward-thinking financial decision and bought a house. I was a hysterical mess during the process, and while it’s been a very good move, it can be stressful, lonely, and comes with a heavy dose of imposter syndrome.
I had a partner at the time, but his credit was lousy enough that adding him to the mortgage would have increased the rates. I decided to buy the house solo, then figure I’d eventually refinance and we’d be on the mortgage together. In the meantime, we agreed to split everything down the middle.
I put an offer in, followed by a financing nightmare (I’ve never had a normal income) that included my parents digging in their basement for my tax returns from 2013, hours spent on hold with the IRS, and enough stress that when my partner and I broke up 48 hours after I closed on the property, I just kind of shrugged and sat on the pile of bedding in the middle of the room. He had driven off with the mattress and bed frame.
So without meaning to or wanting to, I became the sole owner and inhabitant of an unaffordable three-bedroom house in an unaffordable mountain town.
But wait. How could I buy a house in the first place? Aren’t I a writer? Doesn’t that mean I have a terrible income? Yes and yes. Long story short, in 2012 I was in a horrific car accident which led to an insurance settlement, which led to me not following my immediate instinct to buy a Porsche, which led to the down payment on the house six years later. It was the millennial dream. Almost-but-don’t-quite-die… just enough almost-dead to get some money out of it.
So that’s where we find ourselves in 2018. The diesel cloud from my ex’s truck barely cleared, a poorly photocopied set of HOA regulations on the counter, and a yard that needed to be mowed in a house owned by someone who didn’t own a lawn mower. The morning after he left, I sat at my new kitchen counter and wrote out a list of my newly acquired expenses in one column, then my projected income in another column. The two columns weren’t even close to the same number, and I bet you can guess which was bigger.
Realistically, owning a house is a lot like renting once you’re done with the financing. The mortgage is set on autopay, find cool roommates to occupy the other rooms, and then you just kind of… exist.
In fact, it was so much like renting that for the first few months I kept thinking I had to check with my landlord before doing before having a friend with a dog over, pulling screens out of the windows, hosting visitors from out of town. I had to keep reminding myself that the house was mine. I didn’t need to ask anyone’s permission to have a dog in the backyard. But that also means there’s no landlord to call when you lock yourself out of your bedroom, the garage door comes off its tracks, or a water line bursts under your kitchen floorboards. You might have this incredible investment, but that comes with the responsibility to keep it running smoothly.
I lived alone for a while after the breakup, bouncing around like a pingpong ball in an empty shoebox. I’d come from a small apartment, and I didn’t have enough furniture to fill the house, and I had nothing to hang on the walls.
I didn’t know I had to change the filter in my furnace and I didn’t know I had to get my irrigation system blown out each fall. The first time my forced-air heat came on, I recorded the sound to send to my dad, thinking the house was going to collapse. I was inexperienced, overwhelmed, and very alone.
I had a breakdown in Home Depot buying a lawn mower, then another breakdown trying to use it. I knew I had homeowners insurance, but I didn’t know who the company was. I didn’t have a Furnace Guy, a Garage Door Guy, or an Irrigation Guy, all items that needed work. I stumbled around on my own, occasionally getting scammed, texting people I used to housesit for to ask if they had any recommended contractors.
As time went on, I became less panicky whenever something weird happened. I kept more money in my checking account in case of home emergencies, and I had friends-as-tenants moving in and out over the next few years. My house became a wonderful spot for dinner parties and gatherings, and I lost (some of) the imposter syndrome.
But like I wrote about here, loneliness has been a theme threaded throughout the past few years, and this house is no different. In fact, the house exacerbates this feeling. Everything that needs to be taken care of must be taken care of by me. Even when I’ve had friends or partners living here, these are not people who offer want to get on the roof and clean the gutters with me, or set up shelving in the garage, or want to help pull weeds and fertilize the yard. Spending inordinate amounts of time fighting the crabgrass and dandelions puts my experience with homeownership in stark contrast with other people in my neighborhood. I see them spending weekends together on landscaping projects and house repairs, but if I want something done, I have to figure out how to do it. This has been the catalyst for several epic meltdowns, but again, when it’s only you taking care of things, once the meltdown is over, you still have to fix the clogged drain.
I love my house and I am so lucky to own it. I actually feel so lucky that it plays tricks on my mind. It’s a nice, newer house with a large kitchen and a spacious first floor. I have a walk-in closet and a connected bathroom with classy tiles. I feel like I don’t deserve it, especially given the trash economy and dire housing situation in my bloated, overpriced mountain town. Maybe it’s because I received the money through an insurance settlement and not a high-paid career, or maybe I see stable, more qualified couples struggling in their quest for homeownership.
I originally titled this “What I Wish Someone Had Told Me Before Buying a House By Myself,” but I changed it. This is less about what I wish someone had told me, and more about what I wish I’d just somehow known. I didn’t know any other solo homeowners, women or otherwise, so it’s not like I had the chance to sit down with someone with a list of questions. I honestly wouldn’t have known what to ask. I didn’t know there were first-time homeowner classes, and I felt very adrift. Plus, we know that internet content is seldom more than thinly veiled affiliate plugs recirculating the same keyword-crammed information on every website. So I guess if you’re looking to get a house—alone or otherwise—and you have questions, let me know. I’d love to offer my advice and first-person experience.
Since this isn’t being edited, I don’t have to end with a perky Let’s Look At The Bright Side paragraph. That’s not how life works, and it’s ok to acknowledge that. What I know is that I am remarkably lucky to have bought a house before the market went wild—I could never buy into the market right now. I am grateful for this financial security every day, and it’s ok to wish that there was someone else to mow the lawn sometimes. Those two perspectives can coexist.
I’m in a list habit from my freelance work, so here are a few actually helpful things I wish I’d known. Lmk if you have questions.
Your mortgage will get bought and sold over and over. It’s so weird. They also sometimes don’t tell you except with a LETTER IN THE MAIL before closing your account. This will result in you not paying your mortgage for four months because you never check your mail and never apparently check your automatic withdrawals either.
Always know where the master water shutoff is. Water-based appliances are terrifying monsters of destruction when something goes wrong, and knowing how to shut off the water to the house is a big freaking deal.
Just pay someone to program your irrigation system. It’s fine. Just pay the $65 and stop crying over the RainBird Millennium System.
You will be house poor for the first year. Everything your landlord took care of is now your problem. If you own a standalone home, this might mean gardening tools, grass feed, a lawn mower, and a weed whacker. You need a rake for the fall and a snow shovel for the winter. You need stain for the porch and an outdoor broom. You might have to get a second garage door opener and you’ll definitely need more furniture. Keep more money at hand than you think is necessary.
Keep a file with the contact info of everyone you’ve used for services. This means the garage door guy (I’ve had a lot of issues with my garage door), the furnace technicians, the homeowner’s insurance office, the irrigation experts, the plumber, and the fencing contractor. Emergencies happen, and if you panic in stressful situations, having trusted contractor info close by is helpful.
They don’t have to clean the house for you!! I showed up to get my keys, and the floors hadn’t been swept, there were old grass clippings in the garage, and random plastic cutlery in one of the drawers. This isn’t like a rental clean out. The house was overall in great shape, but it was… kind of weird. I asked my real estate agent if they forgot to do a move-out clean and she laughed so hard.