
In 2013, I bought my 3-bedroom, 2-bathroom, 2-car garage house in Phoenix, Arizona for $175,000. Over the years, I made a number of improvements to it ā like new floors, a renovated master bath, and most notably, a gorgeous modern white-cabinet, gray granite galley kitchen (that I designed myself) ā one of the most attractive features of the home.
On September 4, 2020, I sold it for $325,000. For asking price. (Public record, yaāll.)
I wasnāt a homeowner during the last recession and housing crisis, but I was living in a rental and saw Phoenix/Scottsdale deeply affected. The condo I was renting sold in 2017 for $240K at the height of the market. In 2011, it sold at auction for $60K.
So it was easy for me to take this piece of financial advice to heart ā
A house is an investment. Like any investment, a smart investor sells when they see the economic indications that they’re approaching the ceiling. Take out emotion, nostalgia, and leave cold analysis ā
In the Phoenix metro as of this writing, itās a sellerās market. Inventory is low. Homes are snatched up within hours of being listed, at asking price or above. My house set a new comp in the area ā $200 per square foot (almost double since I purchased it)!
I knew I wasnāt going to put in any more money into the house. Thereās only so high that it could sell for ā and the value of a house is only the value of the house if someone is willing to buy.
Iām not a financial expert, nor can I predict the future. (But I have spent the last few years on the road to financial freedom and independence.) I knew that I had significant equity and I had a willing buyer. With the current (and likely to continue) economic uncertainty, I did NOT want to risk losing my perfect window of opportunity and all the momentum I had gained.
That fact, combined with motive (excitement and eagerness for change) and opportunity (remote employment) ā and it was an easy decision to sell my home of 7 years and become a full-time nomad!
P.S. I’m definitely going to miss cooking in this beautiful kitchen, though š