My wife and I embarked on a crash course in real estate when we found out our landlords had decided to sell the duplex we're renting. We have loved living here so started, having never bought or even researched buying, with making an offer on this house. It was accepted, we hired a super nitpicky inspector who basically scared the shit out of us (but also correctly noted that the house is huge and in need of some huge-ticket repairs and deferred maintenance), and after some serious soul searching we passed on the house. I don't think we would necessarily have made the same decision if we had had more experience with buying or had already been looking, but we were in way over our heads and made the best decision we could at the time (I realize it sounds like I'm describing something that happened years ago, but it was actually about 6 weeks ago. That learning curve is short but steep!)
But within days of us cancelling the contract the house was sold, so we figured we might as well try to buy something since we had put so much time and energy into getting the financing etc set up and are sick of renting. So we looked, made an offer on a place that was nice but way overpriced, couldn't agree on a price, kept looking, got into a bidding war on a place that was cute as a button in a great neighborhood but needed some updating (read: quite a bit of updating), lost the bidding war, found another place close by. I initially didn't care much for it, but my wife loved it, and after some thought and another visit, we made an offer.
That's the house we got. I still don't love it. There are things I like about it, but it still feels like a compromise in almost every way — except that it's a house we'll own (which is a huge plus, don't get me wrong) and that is priced fairly for what it is. It's just…fine. Of course, feeling that it's fine (and not THE HOUSE OMIGOD) allowed us to negotiate rationally and look at it with some detachment, but it also means we can both genuinely take or leave the house. We're also exhausted and fucking sick of trying to buy a house, so there's that.
Is it normal to feel this way at this point?
tl;dr: The house we are most likely going to close on feels like a cross between the Goldilocks "just right" and "fuck it, we need a house, this one's fine." Did I do it wrong?
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