In 1990, I moved into an apartment on East Sixth Street, right on the border of Alphabet City. Back then, Alphabet City and the surrounding blocks were sketchy. During the day, my block was safe. There was always an eclectic mix of locals, artists, musicians, and longtime neighborhood residents looking out for each other. When the sun went down, though, it was another story. At the time, my days were spent in school, and my evenings were filled with working behind the bar or going to late-night jam sessions. It wasn’t unusual for me to come home from work or a gig at 3 AM. I always remember that feeling I got in the pit of my stomach when I made the right turn from Second Avenue on to Sixth Street. Before I got to my front door, I was guaranteed to be approached by someone selling crack or heroin. There was always someone begging for money or food. This experience changed my entire feeling about my home. Being inside my home felt safe, getting there not so much.
Around that time, a good friend from the neighborhood left the city with his wife and baby girl to live in the suburbs. And, on more than one occasion, he told me that when he made the right to turn down the lane to his house, he physically exhaled, slowed down, and relaxed. It was completely opposite to the stress he had encountered while living in his previous home. Yes, his commute was longer, but he said he left his stress on the train rather than having it chase him inside his home.
I have been thinking about this a lot lately. The transition from work to home. For some of us, the commute requires a subway, car, or a walk; for others, it’s simply moving from one room to the next. This segue from work to home is more important than most people think and often not considered enough when deciding where to live. A transition that gives you time to decompress will bring you home in a different mindset than if you are being jostled and harrassed the whole way.
I recently had a client buy a beautiful apartment in a new neighborhood. He and his wife fell in love with this apartment. It was perfect, from the finishes to the walk-in closet and their dream kitchen. It was everything they wanted – inside. But, after three months, they decided to sell. Why? The road home. They didn’t feel safe walking the neighborhood at night. They both dealt with aggressive homeless and were threatened and assaulted on one occasion. Their trip across town from their Midtown East offices went from a short walk to a door-to-door Uber. They wouldn’t go out after dark to even walk the dog anymore. When they got home, they were stressed and exhausted – not even their perfect home brought them solace. They had just spent close to $10M on what they truly believed was their ideal home, but the road to get there was causing them both more anxiety than they could ever imagine. Their dream had turned into a nightmare.
As we restarted the apartment search, we spent considerable time looking at the commute and the neighborhood. It became as important as the apartment itself. As part of our new search experience, I suggested they spend a few nights in a hotel nearby to get an idea of what it would feel like to live in the area and check out their commute. They have had a lot of fun trying out new neighborhoods and one connected with them. They looked forward to coming “home.” They felt comfortable and could see themselves as part of the community, something they had not previously considered necessary. A few months later, we found them a new home in this neighborhood. From a real estate perspective, the property they bought does not compare to the one they sold.
Still, the peace of mind of coming home was worth more than any view or amenity package ever could.
The feeling of home is brought on not just by the destination itself, but the feeling begins on the journey to reach it.
Let’s do this.
-Shaun