Yet again, we’ve all been there. More than likely you’ve moved out for university or to share with your friends or partner and you’ve had to face the inevitable highs and lows of the renting lifestyle.
First it’s finding the place to begin with. The endless hours spent scrawling through rightmove or spareroom or zoopla or placebuzz, the list goes on. Eventually they all start merging into one and you have no idea what you’ve seen and what you haven’t. You outline your criteria, and after a while start to wonder what you can compromise on. “Do I really need space for a wardrobe?”
You finally find places that start to fit the bill and a day later they’re struck from the site, never to be seen again. Aaaand you’re back to square one. You sign yourself up to email updates from every website, and get bombarded on an hourly basis by lists and lists of properties that are polar opposite to what you’re even looking for. Picture perfect properties that one could only ever afford after having won the lottery. Then the properties within your budget that look like crack dens in comparison, or have mould covered walls, damp patches and peeling paint. I once walked into a viewing at instantly retched at the stench the second the door opened. You glance at the estate agent to see if they're being serious and you can tell they're desperately looking around for something positive to say. Don't bother, It's a no from me.
Finally you think you've eventually found the perfect property but it's a million miles away from where you wanted to be, but you think "it's fine, it's fine, I can compromise, no-one every died from too much commuting right?" and then you discover that you've got to jump through a million different hoops and basically rip off an arm and leg and sell your soul before you can be accepted for a tenancy. Exasperated by the entire process you wonder if you should just put up with mouldy walls. I've learnt that things in life never come easy, and if it is simple, then you're probably doing something wrong. Complications are learning curves, right? But we all deserve to live like royalty, let's be honest.
How about when you finally settle somewhere and you think it's going to be super comfy and cosy and homely and give you all the feels. Yet a year down the line, you find that you barely surface from under your duvet for fright of frostbite and you inhale the mould and the damp that you definitely didn't see coming and think to yourself "why did I ever agree to live in such a dump" "who's idea was this?", so in your spare time you hop back onto rightmove and scroll until the boredom hits realising that there's bare minimum out there when you really need it.
Yet we can't all afford to buy/have the capabilities to set up a mortgage, so for years and years your pay checks slip away to landlord after landlord, (you'd think the amount that they're getting paid, they could pick up the phone and help you fix a few things). You wait for the day when you're ready, ready to get on the property market, ready to settle, ready to never have to deal with a landlord again, ready to finally create yourself a home.