My husband and I are both native Californians and under 35; most of our neighbors have lived on our street since the 1960s. One has a six-foot-tall painting of Grant and Lee shaking hands at Appomattox in his garage, and carries a pistol. Another is named Butch.
Though my husband and I stick out, we find plenty to enjoy here. There’s lovely hiking nearby, lightning bugs, and genuine Southern charm. But that’s not why I live here. We live here because it’s cheap.
We have a plan for our lives — a plan to save as much money as possible, so we can become financially independent in the next ten years, and then do whatever we want with the rest of our lives. You could call us Mustachians or Early Retirement Extremists, but really we just like the idea of being able to decide how to spend our time without worrying about a paycheck.
When the opportunity came up three years ago to buy a foreclosure at an amazing price, bringing financial independence closer, we leapt. And we landed here.
Friends question why we live there, rather than somewhere cooler, nicer, more urban, and walkable. We could afford it. And, truthfully, I would love to have all those things.
When is saving money more important than living in a great place?
I live in the wonderfully offbeat city of Portland, right in the thick of things. I love where I live, like LOVE LOVE where I... Read more
I’ve sometimes felt that I’m missing out in the name of frugality, that we should go ahead and spend twice or three times as much for an apartment in-town rather than a house out here. Isn’t life for living, after all, not for overly-zealous budgeting? But, then I think about why we live our lives the way we do — so we can travel, spend more time with any future kids, devote ourselves to our passions, volunteer, or do any number of things that don’t involve going to work. And I remember that it’s worth it.
Over the years, I’ve found ways to cope and find some beauty in the un-cool corner of Atlanta, while staying on course for financial independence.
First, we picked somewhere outside the city — it isn’t so far away from work and friends that it’s cost and time-prohibitive to do anything fun. We carpool to work, which keeps costs down and makes commute time more enjoyable.
A yard means we have room for a vegetable garden (and the bouncy castle we rented for our “Hey, we got married!” party).
Guest rooms mean we’ve been able to have friends and family stay with us for extended periods of time.
We’ve also explored a different side of the city than we would’ve otherwise. There’s natural beauty — birds that chirp loudly in our trees as I drink my morning coffee (though I’m less crazy about the fire ants in the yard). We’ve discovered some amazing Southern and Ethiopian restaurants.
Even the neighbors have taught me some things about lawn care, and how people very different than me see the world.
Living here isn’t for everyone, and I’m not sure how long we’ll stay. But I’m glad we jumped into something that was right for us, even when others said it was a mistake.
I suspect the author lives kinda near me. But since this describes everywhere outside the perimeter (almost) I can’t be sure. I too live in this kind of area for financial reasons (in my case, because I’m a single mom trying to finish a degree so living in my parents basement is the best option at the moment). I too am bothered by the lack of cool, even though I know it’s the best choice in the long run. Even though it’s not a killer drive to get to cool stuff I find I’m less motivated to get to it than I have been in situations where I was just a quick bus ride from the center of where ever I was living (I used to move around a lot). I’ve been here a while and the perks are no longer out weighing the drawbacks for me…so it’s a good thing I’m nearly done with this degree, I guess.