You Cannot Have Extraordinary, Without Ordinary
I read a quote once that said:
“People who rush a process are often insecure about losing something they don't even have yet. That there is alchemy in patience, because patience is a kind of assurance. I am sure I am going to get it, therefore I am patient”.
I've been circling this lesson for a while now. Specifically with home ownership.
Some people know that I had a breakup on the PCT, and it was one of the hardest situations I’ve ever been through. But also the most enlightening experience. And you may be thinking, what on Earth does this have to do with homeownership?
Well we lived together, and I felt like I needed to protect the safety of my belongings. I decided to get off trail, and fly back to Florida from Big Bear to move everything I owned out into a storage unit. I didn't think I had any other choice to make. I honestly had no idea if I would go back to California. But then, I decided that I did in fact want to go back to trail.
There was a mutual understanding between my parents and I that I would end up moving back home. I even left some things in the guest bedroom, awaiting my return. All the money I had saved for my trip, could have been used for an apartment. I would have been comfortable. But that is not what the money was for. And I did not want to quit the trail. Not after I dropped my whole life for it. I quit my job, and left everything behind.
My parents agreed to letting me live at home rent free when I got back, which was a huge relief. As long as I was actually working toward something. I had a lot of time on trail to think about what my plan was, and decided I was gonna buy a house. By myself, no co-sign, before I’m 24 years old.
So when I did finish and came home, I only had just enough money for gas to get me to work that same week. I remember feeling ashamed of that. Not because anyone made me feel that way, but because of my own ego. Coming back home with no money to my name felt like a failed attempt at adulthood. As if walking across a continent and then landing back in my childhood home with only 50 bucks, was some kind of contradiction. How was I going to buy a house with $50 to my name?
But eventually my mindset changed, because it just had to. And what changed wasn't just watching the number in my savings account grow. It was realizing how lucky I was to even have that ability. So many people don't have a home to go back to. Don't have parents who can see their kid's vision and choose to support it instead of question it. People live paycheck to paycheck, working multiple jobs, just to get food on the table.
I realized I wasn't failing adulthood. I was beating the game. The American dream was never built on independence. It's built on being vulnerable enough to receive the help you need when you need it. One of the biggest lessons I learned on the trail was how to accept help. At times, my safety depended on it.
So I got to work. Those first few months I was working almost 70 hours a week across two jobs. Six days a week, one day off, and over 90% of every paycheck went into savings. Every day when I got off shift, I deposited my cash. I still do it today. It's become a ritual for me. Like quiet proof, to myself, that I'm serious. Saving money is a skill, and I was learning it. I sent my parents screenshots of my accounts too. Not because they asked. But because I am proud, and I want them to know I really am serious. That I’m not wasting this clear opportunity.
There is an overwhelming sense of gratitude for where I'm at. Like I said before, not many people take advantage of living at home. Many don't even have a place to call home. And here I am, past 25% of the way to $100k. But again, it is not about the money, but the principle behind it.
Eventually then the lesson I mentioned before started to hit.
When I tried to get access to a mortgage loan, I was blocked by a series of things. My hike halted my income history. My income style, tip based and inconsistent by nature, worked against me on paper. And I needed to make sure that I could actually afford a house after my down payment. My mortgage payment, any remodels or repairs.. What am I going to do if my AC breaks, or my dishwasher explodes?
The bank does not want to give a 23 year old girl who was unemployed for 6 months a loan for over 100k. Valid, but rude. My broker told me I needed two years of income history. Are you serious?? I realized that if I wanted a house sooner, I'd need a co-signer. And somewhere underneath that logistical wall was a different kind of wall.
Expectations. Ouch.
An expectation I'd quietly built for myself: how cool would it be to be a 23-year-old woman who bought a house all by herself. Completely alone. When the co-sign option came into play, that fantasy started slipping, and I got restless. It felt like this shouldn't be harder than it was turning out to be. I have the money. I have the support. I have the grit and determination to figure it out. Why wasn't that enough? Please just take my money damnit.
I had to really sit down and actually ask myself… Why am I in a rush? Why am I so anxious to buy? The market isn't even that good. What is this relentless pull of desire and why is it consuming me?
Underneath the restlessness was something even bigger than a house and my expectations.
Comparison.
Everyone around me is buying homes, getting married, starting businesses, having kids. Because that's what people do at this age, they live their life. And I kept thinking… What am I doing? I just walked across America. How am I supposed to top that? By living at home, working over sixty hours a week, and for what? To what end? When is it my turn to say yes to the dress, or the house, or whatever everyone else is doing? When is it my turn to greet my little June Bug into the world? When is it my turn to contemplate which rug looks better in the living room?
I had to snap out of that ego state, and fast… The one that needs an accomplishment to define the journey. What I'm doing right now, waiting, working, saving, visioning, is just as grand as deciding to walk across a continent.
And then beyond the lesson, reality hit as well, but the useful kind. Volusia County released a new loan program offering thousands of dollars to first-time homebuyers, with over a decade of deferral. I learned about homestead tax too. If I did co-sign, I'd only have partial ownership, more to pay in taxes, and no access to that new program at all. Did I really need to co-sign? Or was I just trying to rush this for the sake of having something to call mine?
So I've decided. I am choosing patience. I am choosing alchemy. I am choosing divine timing. My time will come. It already has proven itself, over and over.
I need two years of stable income, with one almost completed already. I want to save 20% down so there's no PMI, and it’ll give me a mortgage payment that won't bankrupt me. I can do this without a co signer. I am choosing to wait. But I’m not doing it alone.
That doesn't mean the waiting is quiet. I feel it most in the small absences. I miss the feeling of coming home to crash on my own couch, and put on my show without worrying about the tv being taken already. I miss being a host for dinner parties. I miss having a private space when I start talking to someone romantically and want somewhere peaceful just to hang out.
I miss my belongings that I hate knowing are collecting dust in a storage unit. My signature scent, a Vince Camuto perfume, Mi Amor, sweet and dainty. My endless collection of sundresses, my expensive glass Tupperware for meal prepping, the paintings I framed at my old job, my boots that I swear pair with every outfit. I know how to live without all of that. Clearly, as I spent 6 months with only what could fit on my back. But it would be nice to experience those little joys again.
I am not failing by waiting. I am choosing to be patient. I am building momentum. One shift at a time. One beer pour at a time. One mop of the entire restaurant at a time. One smile at a time.
“People who rush a process are often insecure about losing something they don't even have yet. That there is alchemy in patience, because patience is a kind of assurance. I am sure I am going to get it, therefore I am patient”.
