I have moved 11 times in the span of nine years. I’ve been halfway across the world and back. This does not include the time I spent living in hotels or couch surfing for a stint or two. So I believe it goes without saying, I’m tired of moving. I’m ready to settle into a home of my very own and toss the cardboard boxes for good.
The best way I can describe the road to homeownership is much like starving at your favorite restaurant. Every time the server comes from the kitchen and heads your way you get excited and think “this is it! This is mine!”, and then the server turns swiftly because it is in fact, not for yours. (It probably went to the cash paying customer that probably has three other entrees and is getting this one for her son to live in, errr, I mean eat.) You get your hopes up and remain starving, wonder if they forgot your order, and then the server swiftly slips by you once more.
But thankfully, after a fair amount of time, disappointment and hunger pangs, you find it, the house you will ultimately make your own, that hasn’t already been gobbled up by others in this ruthless seller’s market.
Yet once you find your soon to be home, you may release a sigh of relief and think the anxiety of bid wars and stress is behind you. You are then suddenly transported to the boss level, the underwriter.
I have found that answering to the evasive, detailed demands of the underwriter is much like driving along, safely, doing the speed limit and a cop is right behind you. You’re not doing a thing wrong, but in that driving time, you are lowkey freaking out and have already convinced yourself you must be a wanted criminal on the run.
Personally, after a week of back and forth and sending a letter of explanation detailing why I purchased underwear was about the time I blacked out of frustration, threw my head back and shouted to the underwriter gods, “I’m not a horrible person, I work hard, pay my bills on time and just want a roof over my head!”. I hope they heard me, or at the least, my current neighbor didn’t’ call the cops on me.
I do want to disclose that I’ve was informed I had the doozy of the underwriter community, and not everyone’s experience is like this, I hope for anyone else’s sake this is true.
It was one of the most frustrating times of my life, aside from trying to actually get a straight answer for a move in date once all the ducks had been placed in their row to close on this house. All while I waited with everything I owned packed away… and my close date was changed multiple times in two weeks.
But while the process was not something you could pay me to go through again, and I would not recommend the process I went through, ultimately the hard work paid off in the end and I’m elated to finally be a homeowner. Finally enjoying the best part, slowly turning this house into my home.
If you have any questions or would like to swap horror stories, please do!
I’d love to hear I’m not alone or help someone else that is going about this process alone for the first time.
YOU MAY ALSO ENJOY
- Adulting and Other Terrible, Awful, No Good Words For a generation who has coined the term adulting for a...