When my wife and I a few years ago set out to buy a home, we essentially had a few options:
- Continue renting until the perfect property pops up
- Buy a condo
- Buy a townhouse/single family home (SFH)
We both agreed we'd rather build our own equity than help a landlord improve his, so that eliminating renting as an option.
In the end, we opted for a condo for these reasons:
- With an association that handles all external maintenance, there's far less upkeep required than in a SFH
- Less upkeep translates into more time for the things we enjoy doing, like reading, writing, and watching documentaries
- Far less expensive than a SFH (mortgage, property taxes, etc.)
- Less space means less to clean and fix
- Less space means less stuff piled up and accumulating dust
- Perks like security and water are worked into the HOA fee
Here are a few personal reasons why a condo was right for me:
- Having lived in a two-story duplex through early adulthood, I like having a view from an upper floor
- I enjoy having a swimming pool (very costly to maintain on your own)
- I'm the farthest thing from a handyman, and my wife likes to say she wouldn't have a green thumb if her life depended on it
- As a writer, I always envisioned my pad being a cozy apartment with a cat, an office resembling a library/museum, and a kitchen resembling a coffee shop. After some decor changes my wife and I have made during quarantine, I'm proud to say we have just that!
I realize most people's idea of the perfect home is a large, spacious property with a white picket fence, an oversized yard with dogs running amok, and several gigantic flat-screen TVs to boot.
Bigger is better, or, at least, that's what society would have us believe.
I am of the belief (as are many of my fellow introverts) that you don't have to wait until you're retired and the kids have moved out to aim smaller.
Why can't we strive for a simpler, more minimalist lifestyle in our 20s? In our 40s?
Not only does it set us on a better path financially, but we learn to lessen our dependence on material junk.
The same logic extends to facets of our life beyond where we live, like:
- The cars we own: Do we really need an expensive vehicle that accommodates a family of six when there's only three of you?
- The foods we eat: Why splurge on a $65 steak at a luxurious restaurant every week when you can get one 70% cheaper at Chili's?
Granted, we work hard for our money, and we should not be opposed to forking over more cash every now and then for an experience outside the norm of everyday life, like a vacation.
But if you're spending beyond your means and racking up credit card debt, it's time to hit the brakes.
While I'm not saying there are no introverts who own big houses and expensive cars, in general, introverts care more about ideas -- knowledge, learning, expanding their mental horizons -- than they do about having gobs of money.
If you were to ask me what I splurge the most on, it'd be books that cost no more than $30 each.
I own a simple car that gets me from A to B, and that's good enough for me.
Before COVID-19, we took a vacation annually, but we kept it domestic, traveling mostly within our state and throughout the northeast.
My impetus for vacationing? Soaking up all the rich history that cities like New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Washington, D.C. have to offer. We hit up as many museums and historic homes (which are often free or extremely cheap) as we can possibly fit into a six-day stay.
So, yes, if introverts have it our way, we will happily throw dollar bills at nerdy stuff -- from books to vacations that seem more like school field trips. What better way to spend our money than on things and experiences from which we can derive intellectual value?
So the next time you hear someone say that everyone dreams of owning a mansion or Maserati, you can tell them that most introverts would beg to differ!
Everyone has their own unique perspective of what constitutes an enriching life. For introverts, less can be more.
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