Homeowning Elitism

I love my condo. It is spacious, has a very useful basement, has beautiful hardwood floors...it is wonderful in all appects. But one. It is a condo. It is 1/2 of a house. It is not detached. And that bugs me to no end.

Growing up, there was one end of my street that had duplexes. That was considered the low-class end of the street. Anyone living in a duplex, or worse an apartment, was looked down upon. "Regular" folks lived in single-family homes. Even when the condominium craze hit, they were considered lodgings for those in-between permanent houses. Good for famililes starting out, but not for anyone that was established in life. Now, the home in which I grew up was no palace, but it met all the criteria for acceptable social status.

I lived in a condo when I was in graduate school, with my future husband, That was ok. We were young and transient. Moving up to Massachusetts, we inhabited another condo, before I pushed to move into a house. We didn't buy - he was too cheap. We rented a nice house and I was far more comfortable mentally. My flight from my crappy marraige necessitated low-quality, low-cost housing. A run-down apartment in a squalid area of town. But, that was ok. I was definitely not settled and very much in a transition phase in life. The holes in the walls didn't bother me. They were a temporary situation; I could handle that.

From that hovel came a move to another apartment, albeit one that was gorgeous. Situated in a Federalist mansion in a beautiful, historic town, it was large, had an amazing airy living room with floor to ceiling shelves, 3 functioning fireplaces...I always felt I had one foot out the door. It was an apartment - not designed for lifelong living. I had just started a new job, moved across the state...just starting to rebuild my life. Being lazy, I stayed in that one spot for 8 years. The space and location were great, but I always felt a twinge of anxiety about the place. It was not a house. Period. I had not yet "made it."

My situation was changed by disharmony in the landlord side of the building. They decided to get a divorce and the house was to be sold. There was a great deal of uncertainty about how the apartments would be handled, so I decided it was time for a move. This time, I knew I had to bite the bullet. I had to buy something. I was 38 years old, damn time to get away from the rental lifestyle.

For the first time, I had to take a good, hard look at the housing market in this area. It dawned on me that most of the houses ewre multi-family dwellings. Large, old houses broken into pieces. Even then, the pieces were worth a king's ransom. I looked around at other towns. Any town of size presented the same picture. My town was not an abberation - it was the norm. Pricewise, a single-family dwelling was ridiculous. But, I did not let that deter me. I wanted my own house and would move man or mountaian to get it.

Well, my resolve lasted as long as it usually does. The second place I looked at is the one I bought. Yes, it was a condo, but at least there were only 2 units in the house. The street was wonderful. I loved it immediately. My house-hunting stopped the minute I found the place. In terms of cash, she was a steal for the area. 3 bedrooms, full basement for under $300,000 in my town is considered dirt cheap. Everyone told me how lucky I was and how wonderful was my new place. I've been there two years now...and I actually tried to flee the other day.

A house came available on my street awhile back and ever since I saw the For Sale sign I had a pull in its direction. It was single-family. It was still on my street. The move would be a piece of cake. It even had a deck on the 2nd floor and the kitchen looked gorgeous on the website. I finally decided to check it out. It was far smaller than my current place and the basement was abysmal. But, the rooms were nice, the ceilings didn't need repair (like mine) and, most important, it was detached. I made a offer on the place and went home to await the news.

I left the realtor's office around 4:30 and was told I would hear word by 8:00. My nerves were firing bullets into my brain. I was experiencing a roller coaster ride of anticipation and buyer's remorse. I wanted the new place, but I loved my current residence. Pins and needles, pins and needles....until I got the call. The buyer had accepted an offer that was made that morning. No new place for me. And, I didn't really care. I didn't feel any loss, I wasn't upset. It was very odd. I thought that I would have been somewhat down, but I actually felt fine.

I thought about this for a few days. Was I not upset because I'm over my disdain of attached dwellings or was I not upset because I was not really that happy with the house for sale. I'm still not sure. If another little house comes available, I might take a look, but I'm certainly not going on a house-hunting crusade. I guess I'm somewhat more comfortable with the idea of condo living. Plus the dogs have claimed the place as theirs and I'd rather not upset them. They'd take revenge...