It is if you find your “place” and fall deeply in love with it. This could be your abode, the block you live on, your neighborhood, your city or town, or even your country.
I spent almost ten years of my life in NYC flipping apartments. I bought, renovated, and sold eight apartments, as well as a handful more that I purchased from offering plans pre-construction and sold shortly after closing and moving in for short periods of time. I also renovated a few additional properties we lived in and a handful of weekend homes. A client (who became one of my closest friends) taught me everything I needed to know about flipping, and one of his mantras was: “Do not get emotionally attached to a property.” He was right! Emotional attachment makes for a more emotional sale, and these were meant to be quick flips.
I lived in every apartment for less than a year. I literally lived through many of the renovations—relegated to the gym for a hot shower and a drink of water. It was hard to fall in love, but I loved aspects of each of them (otherwise I would not have invested). A flip is different from a home, and emotional attachment to your home is natural (for most). It can be much harder to let go of your home if you have lived in it longer (even if the joy has run its course). I have seen this in action!
So don’t let anyone ever tell you that you are not going to get emotionally attached to your home. You probably will—and should! It doesn’t happen to everyone, but it does to most. Perhaps it isn’t the physical space itself, but the cherished memories created over years of ups and downs, highs and lows, the best and the worst. It’s the place where life happens, where our stories unfold, and where New York itself imprints on us in ways we don’t always recognize except retrospectively.
Perhaps it is even your neighborhood that defines home to you. I struggled for many years identifying as an “Upper West Sider,” having built a firm and committed persona (at least in my own mind) as a true downtowner vowing never to move above 23rd Street. Now I am deeply rooted in my neighborhood, my block, and my building. I’ve even become one of those “Central Park” types who “can’t live without my park!” But I get the best of both worlds because I work downtown and do a lot of business there, giving me my daily downtown fix. We also venture out at night and on weekends for anything and everything NYC—be it cultural or culinary—which includes all of Manhattan and even the boroughs!
Your home may also be your city or town. Another 9/11 anniversary passed, and once again it was an exact replica of the weather that fateful day—dry warmth and not a cloud in the sky. It reminded me vividly of my feelings that day, which included the extreme fear that my beloved NYC was going to be taken away from me. Ripped right out from under my feet just as I had become quite complacent with New York and complained about it a lot (and still do).
The 9/11 tragedy was a slap in the face of this complacency, and I was instantly grateful to be alive and living in the best city in the world. When significant world or national events happen, it makes me think of home and safety—the very impetus for writing on this topic. Maybe because my livelihood is helping people find their way home.
If the past years have taught me anything, it’s that “home” is both fragile and enduring. It can be shaken, challenged, even temporarily lost—but it is never gone. We carry it with us, in our neighborhoods, in our communities, and most of all, in our hearts. And no matter where you are in your journey—flipping, renting, buying, or simply dreaming—may you always find a place that feels like home.