Closing on my first home was a moment I’d eagerly anticipated for years. So why was I feeling utterly overwhelmed on the way to sign the documents?
At 37, after diligent saving and planning, I was about to become a homeowner. Yet, as I traveled down Madison Avenue to the attorney's office with my husband, I felt increasingly anxious.
My heart raced as I reminded myself that I was on the verge of achieving a lifelong dream, one that had been in the works for decades. I should be thrilled about the fun parts of home-buying: exploring quirky flea markets, decorating my new space, and throwing housewarming parties for friends. But no matter how much I tried, excitement eluded me.
Signing a 30-year, $250,000 mortgage felt far more daunting than any other commitment I had made, including my marriage. Was it typical to feel so anxious about major changes rather than joyous? Was this milestone going to be my breaking point? It wasn’t until weeks later, after the closing, that I began to reflect on these feelings.
Sure, I could dismiss it with the simple thought that: “Of course, spending this much money is a big deal! More money, more problems.” But I was determined to understand the deeper reasons behind my unease. Being so close to the situation, I realized I needed objective advice to navigate these feelings.
More importantly, I wanted to grasp why I was feeling anxious despite having no apparent reason to worry. I’m fortunate to be in a loving, long-term relationship and financially stable. My partner and I didn’t overextend ourselves on our home purchase. We did our calculations and knew that if one of us lost a job, the other could still cover the mortgage and bills. Sure, we might live on ramen, but we’d avoid foreclosure.
So, what was really going on? Like any good investigator, I started to explore what I now refer to as my “Great Closing Freakout of 2019.” Here’s what I discovered.
Experience Matters
One key reason why a mortgage can feel more significant than a marriage is the lack of practice, according to Keith Gumbinger, Vice President of a mortgage resource site HSH.com.
“You likely had numerous ‘practice’ relationships growing up, gaining experience along the way. In contrast, buying a home can feel like a leap into the unknown. You might not have had any prior ownership experiences to inform that decision,” Gumbinger explains.
He also notes that the fixed time commitment of a mortgage can amplify anxiety. Unlike relationships, which can end without a formal process, a 30-year mortgage is a long-term commitment. “While relationships can shift, the mortgage remains,” he adds. (Sounds like a horror movie title, right?)
Don’t Compare Commitments
However, comparing mortgages and marriages can be misleading, suggests Matt Lundquist, a psychotherapist and founder of Tribeca Therapy in New York City.
“We often connect how much we stress about something with how much we value it in relation to other commitments. This reflects a culture that views stress as a marker of effort and care.” Ideally, I’d appreciate each significant life event individually, rather than measuring it against previous ones.
Big Emotional Shift
Purchasing a home is arguably the largest financial and emotional decision many of us make, states Jill Simmons, senior director of communications at a real estate listing site Zillow. It’s not just a costly transaction; it’s where life unfolds, which is a heavy emotional load.
When buying a home, you grapple with questions like, “I love this place, but what if I lose it?” or “Is this really the best choice for me?” Simmons notes.
You're also confronting the reality of a significant debt and the thought, “I’ll be (insert age) when I finally pay this off!” Gumbinger adds that buying an asset with uncertain future value can be daunting. While home prices generally rise, nothing is guaranteed.
“You’ve done all the research and acknowledged the compromises. But after making the leap, doubts can creep in: what if I missed some crucial deal-breakers?” Gumbinger questions.
Additionally, the fear of adulthood may lurk in the background. “For some, milestones like home ownership can trigger feelings of permanence, making them feel suddenly ‘grown up’ and responsible,” Gumbinger observes.
Valid Concerns
With my marriage and finances stable, Lundquist points out that my anxiety about signing the mortgage wasn’t unfounded. “Owning a home is objectively intimidating,” he notes. “It's a massive commitment and often the largest expense someone will face, carrying significant risks. It’s natural to experience some apprehension.”
Lundquist reassures his clients that it’s perfectly acceptable to feel good about a major choice while still feeling anxious. Certain decisions inherently limit other options. “There’s both an economic and emotional cost to home ownership. It complicates dreams of spontaneity, like traveling the world, since you’re now responsible for those mortgage payments,” he explains.
Embracing the Future
After closing, my initial panic shifted to manageable worry, and months later, I’m truly enjoying homeownership. I’ve relished unpacking and decorating, and just recently, my husband and I hosted our inaugural dinner party in our new home. Yes, I still have nearly 29.7 years left on my mortgage, and challenges like noisy neighbors or space issues may arise, but I won’t let that concern me right now. When the next big life event comes, I’ll strive to assess and appreciate it on its own merit, without comparing it to past experiences.
Maybe my anxiety wasn’t about this milestone, but rather the apprehension of whatever comes next. I’m determined to stay present, allowing myself to worry just enough to prioritize my retirement savings and emergency fund, while avoiding panic attacks on Madison Avenue.
