It’s been one week since we moved into our new home — what was to be our forever home — and I am legit depressed. We looked for our home for so long, and were — we thought — so careful and thoughtful about our choice. We’d heard horror stories about NYC real estate and we didn’t want to be another sucker/victim/fool. We sought advice from knowledgable people. We retained a really smart and thorough lawyer. We did a lot of homework. But, man, we were really conned. This goes beyond just mold in the walls — which is a pretty easy fix — or regular headaches homeowners have to deal with. We were lied to, cheated, and taken for a ride, and it sucks. We don’t even know the extent of the con or how much it’s going to cost us (in money, time, our sanity). I don’t know if we’re going to stay in this home or in this city. Everything I thought was finally settled is now totally unsettled again and it’s… well, it’s a very unsettling feeling. Ugh.
I’d been writing this post in my head for a couple of months. It was supposed to be about how the girl who moved 22 times (or maybe it was 21 – I lost count), finally found a place to stay put. It was going to be about my love for New York City and my gratitude over getting to make this my home, the place where I’ll raise my kids, grow old if I’m lucky. And even a few days ago, I thought that was the story. Despite our kids’ bedroom still being uninhabitable and all their stuff stacked in boxes in the hallway and workmen in our space all day, every day since we moved in, I was happy. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. We made it. Almost. We’d moved in, anyway. But then in the last couple of days, more bad news. It just keeps coming. And the worst part is feeling so foolish about being excited in the first place. Like, who did I think I was to get a place so nice in my dream neighborhood, in my dream city? I didn’t earn that or deserve that — I just got lucky. I thought. But the luck has not been all good. Much of it has been really bad. And I am on eggshells that it’s going to get worse.
There are lessons here to be learned — not just about NYC real estate law and practices — but about human nature, dealing with stress in healthy ways, keeping perspective (we’re all healthy! we aren’t broke yet! we will totally survive this! I think!), keeping the faith in karma and the universe’s plan, and using something like this to strengthen a relationship rather than damage it. I am working to process this experience in a positive way, and I hope to share the lessons I learn — at least the relevant ones — with you eventually. With luck — and we need good luck right now — I’ll be able to share some of our home with you, too. I *hope* it will be our home. I just had the best little laundry closet built! But if it doesn’t work out and we need to move again, well… I’ve had plenty of practice doing that. Twenty-two times! Or, maybe 21. But who’s counting?