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5 Things We Learned From Losing Our Dream Home

On June 30, 2009, we handed over the keys to our dream home, a beautiful house on a ridge in the Silver Lake neighborhood of Los Angeles. We had lost the 10-month battle to save it and were headed into the unknown with nothing but the solace that we had at least avoided foreclosure — and more importantly, that we had each other. We finally got it. It took losing our dream home to profoundly ground us in what really matters and teach us that it’s possible to be happy in the face of any circumstance… even foreclosure.

Here’s what we learned along the way.

1. Love wins. In the battle between love and money, love definitely wins. I know this for fact. I had the chance to prove it when in the midst of our marital apocalypse I screamed at my husband (snot pouring from my nose): “I don’t care about any of this! The house, the money, our stuff! It could all go away today and I wouldn’t care if it meant I would just have you. Us. Happy. The marriage we always wanted!” That was a year and a half ago. Now we live in my mom & stepdad’s basement and I think about that moment quite a bit. Because I’d still take this- the dream marriage, over that- the dream house.

2. Temping for $12 an hour is MUCH better than not working at all. This may seem so obvious. But it wasn’t to me. Not for a long time. In fact, I delayed temping for several months while searching for something better suited for someone with her master’s from USC. Yeah, I guess I saw temping as “slumming.” I was a snob. A snob with no job, none on the horizon and a house with a $5,000 a month mortgage. So, yeah… I finally “stooped.” I worked as an accounting assistant at a commercial real estate developer. (Oh, the irony.) It was filing, data entry, shredding, copying and sorting. And it was glorious. Why? Because, though it was only $12 an hour, it was something. I was finally contributing. As opposed to waiting. And no, my temp job didn’t save our house. But it did save my sanity.

3. Wherever you go, there you are (in a good way). I loved our house. It was an extension of me. Of my personality. It was our home. Where we would raise our children. It was my canvass and I was proud of its transformation and how much people loved it. It was the central gathering place for our group of friends. It was more than a house. It was a representation of family, community, beauty, accomplishment, love. This was why we clung for so long to saving it. And when we didn’t… when we finally let go, we realized… in the end it was just a house. All those things I said it represented? Love, family, community, beauty, accomplishment? They weren’t a function of the house. They were a function of us. And no matter where we are, those things will be with us as long as we continue to cultivate them. Us. Not the house.

4. In order to grow, you’ve got to let go. We’ve long dreamed of living in an exotic location. Like, say, on a remote  island where it’s easier to connect with nature than wifi. For so long we’ve talked about limiting our attachment to material possessions and strengthening our bond to each other and to family. To read more, slow down, have time. Live for what we love and love the way we live.  But we were comfortable in our lives in L.A. Like I said, we loved, loved, loved the house. We adore our friends. Our community there. But there was something bigger out there waiting for us. Something even beyond our imaginations. We did everything we could to stay in that house and when it became clear that it wasn’t enough, we let go. We realized that this was an opportunity to see what lies beyond the limits of our imagination. It turns out it’s a farmhouse on an island in what many people have described as “the most beautiful place in the world.” All because we were willing to let go and grow.

5. Bliss is living with less. Bob was the one to suggest selling everything. No way was I going to do that. But then I thought about it. The cost of shipping our stuff. The cost of storing our crap. (I wouldn’t call it crap then.)  I started to agree with Bob.  We were packing up the car and driving to my hometown with no real plan. Were we really going to store a 3-bedroom house worth of stuff? No. So we sold it. And what we didn’t sell, we gave away. And what we couldn’t give away, we threw away. The night before we had to be out of the house. We did end up shipping $1,500 worth of stuff – clothes, books, documents, shoes, crap… And when we move to the island we are not shipping anything. What does that mean? We still have to get rid of more stuff. Though slightly daunting, it’s exciting. How streamlined can our lives get? It’s a game. And I love it. I’m liberated. I’m free.

Stephanie Walker is a playwright, blogger and freelance writer who faced foreclosure and lived to tell the tale on her Love in the Time of Foreclosure blog, featured in NPR’S Planet Money, The Huffington Post, Apartment Therapy, Chicago Magazine and Business Week. A born optimist, she loves “triumph in the face of adversity stories” and is determined to live her own. After a stint living with her generous family near Chicago, she and her husband will house-sit a lovely home in the San Juan Islands, living rent-free for two years.

Tags: essay, personal finance, real estate