In 2006, when I was newly expecting my first child, my partner and I made the decision to leave Brooklyn for what we called the “suburbs”—which was really just a neighborhood in Queens, adjacent to Long Island. With a sum of money I had inherited, we chose to invest in a modest co-op apartment, anticipating that we could sell it a few years later for a profit. At the time, the real estate market was booming, and we envisioned moving up to a larger apartment or even a house in the future.
However, the recession hit, leading to a significant real estate downturn. The value of our apartment plummeted. A few years later, my partner lost his job and was unemployed for an entire year, resulting in financial turmoil that mirrored our real estate misfortunes.
As we welcomed our second child, our cramped living situation became unbearable. The primary reason for our delay in moving was the fear of losing all the money we had invested in the apartment. Unfortunately, this fear proved to be well-founded. We sold our apartment for significantly less than we had purchased it and, after accounting for moving expenses and real estate fees, we ended up losing money. It was an incredibly stressful and disappointing experience, leaving me with a knot in my stomach whenever I reflect on it.
We eventually relocated to a duplex that offered more than double the space and a yard for our children to enjoy. We have grown fond of the neighborhood, feeling settled and at home. Yet, we find ourselves renting, and with our financial cushion depleted, the prospect of buying a house seems uncertain.
As a child, I always envisioned becoming a homeowner. Growing up in an apartment with a single mother, I longed for a house of my own, complete with a white picket fence. Perhaps that is why I was so eager to invest in real estate when we became parents. I sometimes find myself blaming my decisions, but I remind myself that the market was strong when we bought our apartment, and I couldn’t foresee the downturn.
Currently, saving enough for a down payment on a house in our area—one of the priciest housing markets in the country—appears daunting. While moving is an option, we are deeply rooted here, surrounded by family, with three of my children’s grandparents living close by and actively participating in their lives. I don’t want to disrupt that connection. Moreover, our savings are currently directed toward our children’s classes, summer camps, and even college expenses, as discussed in this excellent resource.
Ultimately, it seems that one cannot have it all. Perhaps if certain aspects of our situation were different, homeownership would be a possibility. But acceptance is vital at this stage.
Yet, relinquishing something I’ve aspired to my entire life is not easy. Adulthood, especially parenthood, often presents unexpected challenges, and things rarely unfold as anticipated. While I strive to embrace my current reality, I still recognize the stability and reassurance that homeownership represents—something I regret not being able to achieve for myself and my children.
Lately, these feelings of regret have diminished. I see that our family enjoys a rich and fulfilling life, highlighted by a warm, loving home. My children thrive with good friends, a supportive school, and a community that embraces them. We have many elements of the happy domestic life I once envisioned, just without the white picket fence.
In conclusion, while the dream of homeownership may not have materialized, the love and connection within our family and community continue to flourish.