I have been halfway looking to move to a townhouse for a while now. It’s been a few years but for most of that time, my heart wasn’t truly in it. The thought of selling my home and moving was immense and I don’t think I was 100% ready.
Then, the perfect buyer approached me about buying my house. I jumped at the chance but more about that another time.
Now I had to get out. The only question was, where?
Looking For A New Townhouse: My Realtor Was A Saint
It is hard for anyone to move out of the house where they raised their family. It is home and leaving it means giving up the place where your memories live.
Doing it as a widow is a whole other ball game. Not only am I leaving the place my children and I love, but I am also severing ties with where I lived with my husband. Plus, all the decision-making is on me and I have no idea what the “right thing” is.
The realtor I chose is a friend. Not one of my besties, that would be too close for comfort, but a friend I have known since I taught her daughter in preschool a lifetime ago.
She schlepped me around for years while I was looking half-assed. To be fair, I didn’t look every day, it was only once every few months. I totally wasn’t ready but she was beyond patient with me.
Once I knew where my house was going, I became more serious, but my wish list was long for my budget. Everything I saw was either too old, too far, too small, or just not right. I was the Goldilocks of townhouse buyers.
Then something came along that I believed was the right place.
My Week In Home Buying Hell
There wasn’t much on the market but eventually one popped up that seemed right. It was close to where I live now, the development was nice, and it was the right size. The downside was that it needed some work. Not too much, but some. It was the best thing I had seen so far.
The market is awful for townhome buyers. We knew there would be multiple offers, so we went in over asking. My offer wasn’t the highest, but most attractive to the sellers. I was going to get it.
But wait…the seller’s realtor wanted more money, and then he asked for other things I thought were unreasonable. The pressure was on. If I didn’t give him everything he wanted, he would go to the next buyer. I would lose the only place I liked since my journey began.
Before anyone gets crazy about what I am about to say, I have nothing against male realtors. I am sure most are fair and great.
But this seller’s realtor, who was a man, was not. He met me when I looked at the house and knew I was a single woman. I couldn’t help but feel I was being taken advantage of because of my status. Maybe he was just a jerk to everyone but maybe he thought he could play on my fear.
Either way, I was a mess. I had only a few hours to make a decision. What should I do?
A New Townhouse: The Perfect Text At The Perfect Time
Just as I was going back and forth with my realtor, whose patience was remarkable, I received a text from an unfamiliar number.
It was from a development I had looked at a year earlier. I loved everything about that place but the distance. It was far from where I am now and everything I know. I didn’t want to go there alone.
The text was to inform me about a brand new development, only one town away from where I currently live. Brand new development! New Construction! Close to home! Priced in my budget! The right size!
Was this really happening? Just as I almost pulled the trigger on a deal I felt was unfair, the solution fell into my lap. I basically told my realtor to tell the awful guy to go f*** himself and she made an appointment for me at the new place.
One week later, I finally bought a townhouse. It’s perfect (maybe except for one thing, but you can’t get everything) and I am actually excited about moving.
My realtor said that I manifested the whole thing. I laughed, but I believe I might have had a little help from maybe a butterfly, or a bird, or a ladybug if you know what I mean.
I am now hoping for great new neighbors. Let me know if you are interested or reach out to my amazing realtor Jen Kotler jennifer.kotler@foxroach.com.
Stacy was a stay-at-home mom/part-time preschool teacher whose life was turned upside down in 2011 when her husband passed away suddenly of a heart attack. She is raising her two fabulous daughters, who are turning into wonderful young women. In 2016, she started a blog about her experience as a young widow, The Widow Wears Pink. This led her to write for other publications including Huffington Post, Today.com, Scary Mommy, Grown & Flown, Kveller, Modern Loss, Thought Catalog, and many more. In 2018 she started Living the Second Act with fellow writer Mimi Golub. Today, Stacy and her daughters are happily living their “new normal” while always keeping her husband’s spirit alive.
