nine months
Nine months. That’s the timeframe. Mom and Dad, don’t panic. This isn’t some bizarre public pregnancy announcement. Believe me, if that were the case, I wouldn’t be this calm and collected. Over the past four months or so, I’ve chatted with several of my friends and family about embarking on my first real estate purchase. Taking my newfound financial security and turning it on its ear, taking on a mortgage and in so doing, “growing up” just a little bit more.
I’ve always wanted to have my own place. When I was younger, to me it was more about aesthetics (designing an interior that reflects who I am and that makes me happy to come home every night). As I grew older, I looked at it with different eyes. It was more about creating a home, a life customized just for myself, and setting down roots. There’s something about the life of a serial renter, however, that still appeals to me. It’s that ability to pick up and go, that romantic notion that you aren’t bound to the responsibility of paying a mortgage, maintaining property, and dealing with the ongoing hassle of ownership. Knowing that there are other places and jobs out there waiting to be experienced instead of resigning yourself to a more tethered existence.
It’s that particular notion, ever present in the back of my mind, that makes me hesitate. I haven’t been shy over the last several months about discussing the possibility of buying property here in Indy. For me, I always think it sends a very strong statement when a woman of a certain age makes that decision for herself and navigates the waters of independence. I find that it elicits one of two reactions – either they’re impressed and excited for you, or you get that sidelong glance that says (without words), “She’s clearly resigned herself to becoming an old maid. Sign her up for a bridge club and go get the cats.”
I’ve put a lot of thought into this process. And because of any slight hesitation on my part (as well as the desire to not decimate my savings by signing away a down payment), I’m waiting. And forcing myself to really think about what I want over the next nine months. I want to actively enjoy my financial independence – travel, make time for myself and friends and family, assess my employment status, make sure that I want to be here before I make the commitment.
In that spirit, I’m going to travel to the places that still call to me, and let my inner conscience be my guide when it comes to a substantial life change. If I’ve learned one thing, it’s this: you can’t force things to happen. The result and outcome of this action is never what I truly desire. When I allow things to naturally fall into place, they do. Without fail. And I can feel it when it’s right for me. I’m taking this approach with the relationships and life decisions in my world for the next nine months and seeing where it leads me. I have a feeling that during this time, I will find my footing on a path that will lead me where I want and need to go.
Apparently, I’m feeling a bit more analytical and insightful this week, but this is what happens when I stop the ride for a few minutes and allow myself to take in my surroundings. Nine months. It’s the least I can do for myself.
I’ve always wanted to have my own place. When I was younger, to me it was more about aesthetics (designing an interior that reflects who I am and that makes me happy to come home every night). As I grew older, I looked at it with different eyes. It was more about creating a home, a life customized just for myself, and setting down roots. There’s something about the life of a serial renter, however, that still appeals to me. It’s that ability to pick up and go, that romantic notion that you aren’t bound to the responsibility of paying a mortgage, maintaining property, and dealing with the ongoing hassle of ownership. Knowing that there are other places and jobs out there waiting to be experienced instead of resigning yourself to a more tethered existence.
It’s that particular notion, ever present in the back of my mind, that makes me hesitate. I haven’t been shy over the last several months about discussing the possibility of buying property here in Indy. For me, I always think it sends a very strong statement when a woman of a certain age makes that decision for herself and navigates the waters of independence. I find that it elicits one of two reactions – either they’re impressed and excited for you, or you get that sidelong glance that says (without words), “She’s clearly resigned herself to becoming an old maid. Sign her up for a bridge club and go get the cats.”
I’ve put a lot of thought into this process. And because of any slight hesitation on my part (as well as the desire to not decimate my savings by signing away a down payment), I’m waiting. And forcing myself to really think about what I want over the next nine months. I want to actively enjoy my financial independence – travel, make time for myself and friends and family, assess my employment status, make sure that I want to be here before I make the commitment.
In that spirit, I’m going to travel to the places that still call to me, and let my inner conscience be my guide when it comes to a substantial life change. If I’ve learned one thing, it’s this: you can’t force things to happen. The result and outcome of this action is never what I truly desire. When I allow things to naturally fall into place, they do. Without fail. And I can feel it when it’s right for me. I’m taking this approach with the relationships and life decisions in my world for the next nine months and seeing where it leads me. I have a feeling that during this time, I will find my footing on a path that will lead me where I want and need to go.
Apparently, I’m feeling a bit more analytical and insightful this week, but this is what happens when I stop the ride for a few minutes and allow myself to take in my surroundings. Nine months. It’s the least I can do for myself.
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