I started renting in 1997. I was 25.
My 1st house was on the north end of Columbus. A small 3 bedroom ranch. The landlord was a private owner and he was very nice. I lived in that house for a year, just long enough to save money for a nicer and bigger house in my hometown.
I then rented a bigger house, a 3 bedroom bi-level in a really nice older subdivision and we lived there for 7 years. My oldest daughter started preschool and kindergarten while we were there and went through the 5th grade. I thought we’d live there forever. I had my 2nd child while we lived there. Three months after I had her, my mother asked us to move in with her to help her pay her bills and save her house as she was going through a divorce and was basically losing her mind. As much as I didn’t want to, we did, for her.
We only lived with her for 6 months and her house caught fire. The insurance put us in a beautiful house back in my hometown for 8 months. After my mom’s house was fixed we had the option of moving back with her or staying in the insurance home but it was 1500/mo so I decided my mom needed to heal by herself or she would always depend on me and also because I wanted to take care of MY family.
So we found another small ranch back home in my grandmother’s old neighborhood. Another private owner. I got pregnant with my 3rd child at this house…
After a year of being there my father passed away unexpectedly and we found a beautiful house just outside of my hometown but the same school district.
I loved that house. Another private owner. We did a lease option. Put 3K down etc…I conceived my last child at this house.
Things went sour with my husband and I after our daughter was born so I found a really old and pretty house in the historic part of my hometown. Private owner. We lived there for 2 years. Things just got worse. I think after my dad passed away, I wasn’t “right” for a long time. Nothing seemed to be going right for me. So on a whim, I decided to move out of my hometown and into Columbus. I thought, maybe if I got away from everything I know, things will get better. I was wrong. I now live in a 6 bedroom house and I only use 1/2 of it. Its too big.
The points I am getting to are these:
1. Don’t EVER move to please someone else. If I could take back moving into my moms to help her, I would. Because ever since then, she’s NEVER helped me. Nor has she even involved herself in my kid’s lives. She blames it on her bi-polar disorder but I think that’s bullshit.
2. Always rent from a private owner. ALWAYS. Even though these days are a little different than when I first started renting, it’s still easier to get into a house owned by a private owner than it is an apartment. You can skip all the credit bullshit. Money talks. Meet a private owner with the $ in your hand and 9 times out of 10, the house is yours.
I have moved FIVE times since the move to my mother’s house. FIVE. That’s fucking gross. FIVE. My dad died, I lost my husband, my mom never changed and I didn’t benefit even a little bit from all that bullshit. I was stable. Happy. Comfortable etc… Its been 7 years since I’ve felt “grounded” somewhere. SEVEN.
All because of my mother.
Don’t be stupid like I was.
Always look out for #1.