Buying a house is as rewarding and intimidating as it sounds. I never knew if I would do it, but I am 14 months later, living in a 100-year-old house that I feel incredibly fortunate to own.
I thought I would give you a little backstory about the whole thing.
Before I bought my house, my living situation was pretty ideal. My uncle purchased a home in 2013 and asked if I wanted to rent it until he moved back to Springfield from California.
I had been living in an apartment for years, so living in a house (and not just any house) felt like a dream come true.
My uncle moved to Santa Barbara in 1983 (the year I was born, thanks a lot!), so I wasn't sure when or if he would return to Springfield. It was a unique situation. But we both figured it would be about three years.
I ended up living in the house for NINE years. Lol.
Those nine years were pretty great. I mean, many good and bad things can happen in your life within a long period like that, but living in a big, incredible historic house on Walnut Street was something I never thought I would be able to do. Like I said, it was a unique situation.
It was truly, in my mind, my dream home. The apparent catch was that it wasn't mine. But I didn't care. It felt like home.
Fast forward to 2022, a year filled with change and heartbreak. My grandma passed away that January, and I was grieving the loss of my dog Kennedy (who suddenly passed the December before) at the same time.
A few months later, I learned I needed to find a new place to live because my uncle was moving back. Bad timing, indeed.
I was given a heads-up and had about six months until I needed to move out. But my brain went into major freakout mode. When it rains, it downpours. But it all worked out in the end. It always does!
I felt like I was finally in a place where I could afford to buy a house. But it was still scary and intimidating, especially with everything else happening in my head.
I started looking at Zillow multiple times a day and soon realized why people get so obsessed with it. It was my main focus other than my job. It took about four months of looking to find "the one."
It was also a crazy time to buy a house. Not that it isn't now, but homes were being sold left and right, and most of them were only on the market for a few days. It was nuts.
Basically, if I saw a house I liked, I needed to put an offer down that day to get it. And I couldn't compete with people who could afford to offer more money and all the things. Yada, yada, yada.
Looking back, the houses I thought I wanted to buy wouldn't have been suitable for me AT ALL. I didn't want to settle, but I also wanted to make sure I wasn't rushing to find something right before I needed to move out.
My goal was to find something built between 1920 and 1960 with lots of historic charm. There were a lot of boxes to check ... and a conservative budget.
I even looked at a big historic house (that needed a ton of work) in a neighborhood I've always loved. I thought it was the house for me and considered buying it. I realize now how much of a massive disaster that would have been. I needed a home that didn't need a lot of work.
One evening, a Zillow alert popped up for a house that appeared to check all the boxes— a fieldstone craftsman bungalow built in 1923. It was also in a great neighborhood with lots of charm.
I texted my relator, and she made an appointment for us to see it the following day. I was so nervous and excited!
It turns out that I knew the realtor (and local historian) Richard Crabtree, who was selling the home. I figured that was a good sign. I looked through the house for about 15 minutes and decided to go for it. I nervously put an offer down.
I forgot to mention that I qualified for a grant with UMB Bank. It was a huge blessing. The requirements weren't demanding to meet— like being a first-time homeowner and making less than 100k a year.
There was a lot of paperwork involved, but I couldn't believe how great of a deal it was. The grant covered my down payment and closing costs. Sold!
I put my offer down on the house on a Friday morning and figured I wouldn't hear back until Monday. I received a phone call from Richard the same evening— the seller accepted my offer! It was a done deal.
And the crazy thing is that nobody else looked at the house after I put the offer down that Friday. I was the only one!
Maybe it was because I knew the realtor, or perhaps it was a universe thing. Either way, I was elated. It truly felt meant to be. It still does.
Moving is highly stressful, and starting over is more difficult for some people than others. I guess you could say I'm one of those people. It took about five months for my new house to feel even remotely close to "home."
Now that I've lived here for over a year, I'm so glad I did something that felt impossible and out of my comfort zone. And I did it by myself! That makes me proud to say.
I would still live in my uncle's house if I weren't forced to move. I would have stayed there forever. And even though starting over felt terrible then, it needed to happen for me to move forward.
Oh, and if I decide to live in my house until it's paid off, I'll be 70. Grandma Jacki, indeed. xoxo
P.S. Here are a few room tours from my house. Many friends have told me that it reminds them of my old home— but it feels more like me. I like that!
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