House Hunting Heartbreak
Lately, house hunting has been an emotional rollercoaster. Writing here feels like the only way to release some of that frustration and disappointment. We’ve now put in offers on three homes — and walked away empty-handed each time.
A stunning 140sqm home with breathtaking lake and mountain views, tucked away in a quiet neighborhood. We joined the tender process, but with five other offers in the mix, ours wasn’t even close. Fair enough — we had gone in lower, since the third bedroom and second bathroom were likely unconsented, and the owners had no plans to sort it out. Still, it was a beautiful property and easy to see why so many people were interested.
This one really stung. A solid 140sqm brick home right in the heart of town, with lake views too. It was set to sell by auction, so we did everything properly — building inspection, legal checks, the lot. Come auction day, only two other bidders showed up, both investors. After fifteen minutes of nerve-wracking back-and-forth, we were the top bidder. But the owners wanted more, even when we added another $4k after the auction closed.
A few days later, they did another round of negotiation and asked for best offers. More buyers joined in. We went in $10k higher, unconditional, and again had the top offer. Still, the sellers came back asking for another $20k on top—way more than the estimated price! That was our line in the sand. For that much extra, we could buy a house with a bigger backyard or even an ensuite. As much as we loved it, we had to walk away.
A smaller, freshly renovated 100sqm home with two bathrooms. On paper, it wasn’t as spacious as the others, but it ticked a lot of practical boxes: modern upgrades, open layout, and a move-in-ready feel. We could see ourselves settling there without the looming pressure of major renovations. We put in our best shot, only to be told later that it was neck-and-neck with the winning offer. We were close, but close doesn’t count in real estate.
So here we are — three offers later, still without keys in hand. It’s hard not to feel deflated, especially after putting in so much time, energy, and emotion to each opportunity. Each time, we were planning what life could look like inside those walls. It’s exhausting. It’s disheartening. But at the same time, I keep reminding myself: the right house won’t require this much pushing, second-guessing, or stretching beyond our limits. Maybe all of this is part of the process — teaching us patience and helping us define what truly matters in a home. Somewhere out there, the right one is waiting. The home that’s meant for us will come, and we’ll look back and know exactly why these doors had to close.
Comments
Post a Comment