Confession: My House Scares the Crap Out of Me

These are things people say to you when you rent your home:

• You're throwing money away.
• Your home never really feels like it's yours.
• There's no security in renting.
• Your rent costs more than my mortgage!!!!

Yeah, I know. I heard it all. I rented for 11 years. Because renting enabled me to set a fixed budget and live somewhat high on the hog while I socked money away. Instead of buying a modest starter home, I moved into a big, fancy apartment. Unburdened by a leaking roof or failing gutters, I always had money for vacations and happy hour.

My rent did cost more than some people's mortgage. But I didn't pay for gas, water, sewage, taxes, home insurance, loan interest, garbage, appliances, maintenance, repairs, or things like a lawnmower/shovel/rake, windows, furnaces, air conditioners, emergency plumber visits, and lots of other seriously expensive stuff.

And, I never once shoveled a snowy sidewalk, raked a pile of leaves, or unclogged a drain. I worried not about hot water heaters or burst pipes. Who cared if there was only one dirty dish in the dishwasher? I ran the whole cycle! That's the wonderful freedom I paid for.

But eventually, it was time to move. I married a wonderful man. He came with lots of stuff. We adopted a very noisy Beagle. We hated Mozart Management, our landlords. So after a long search, we found the perfect house. Since we'd always lived on a budget, we had a nice down payment. We bought that house, and we love it.



So ... where's this sense of security everyone kept talking about?

Home ownership is the scariest thing I've ever done.

Here are the things I worry about every single day:

• Did I lock the doors before I left home today?
• What about the garage door? Oh my god. I might have left it open.
• Did I turn everything off? I bet I didn't. Something's going to start a fire. The house has probably already burned down.
• Speaking of ... how old is our wiring? How much does wiring cost?  
• Houses get older every day. It is DETERIORATING AS I TYPE THIS. I need to do ... things ... to it!
• The upstairs is hot but the downstairs is freezing and the gas bill is going to be huge.  
• Probably because we need new windows. And a new furnace. Oh, god.
• And I DEFINITELY shouldn't take such long, luxurious showers.
• NEW THIS WINTER! Did snow fall on our sidewalk? If someone slips and falls on it, can they really sue us? Did we buy enough salt?
• ALSO NEW: So what does this mean, "burst pipe?" 
• And so on.  

 ........

Anxiety aside, I do love our house. It is so pretty. It is just right for us.

And I do like the feeling that if we want to stay there forever, we can.

My husband can play guitar as loud as he wants. And our dog can bark as ferociously (and incessantly) as she wants.

I don't have to hide my cat  from the landlord anymore (eff you, Mozart!). In fact, we can consider more cats or more Beagles if we want!

This will never happen to me again:

Housekeeping Inspection from Mozart Management. This is no joke.

-- and -- this is big -- I love my laundry chute! (I don't know why we, as a people, decided to start carrying our laundry down stairs in modern times. This was a terrible mistake.)

We really bought a house.

So tomorrow, when I get home, it will happen again. I will stand in front of my house, the biggest thing we ever bought, the biggest responsibility we ever took on, and I will fill with sheer panic.

But also pride. And love. Because fears aside, it is our best adventure yet.

Or at least, that is what I will say if you ask me. Because I do love our house.