There was a time in my life when I thought I’d never own a home. As someone who had preferred life in big cities and prioritized travel above homeownership, the idea of settling somewhere permanently never really appealed to me.
Then I got married, then I got pregnant, and suddenly the idea of living in an actual home to call my own (with a little more space, to boot) became very appealing. By the time my husband and I closed on our first-ever home, I was 32 years old, and I’m so glad I waited until then to buy. Here’s why.