A friend let me move in rent-free while I paid off
my debts—including money I owed to my mom—
and started rebuilding. I paid back every dime.
Four years later, I hit a major milestone: I bought
my first home, just two months after my 30th
birthday in 2008. That same friend eventually
became my partner, and though he had no
credit score at all, we made it work. We got
creative with proof of reliability—letters from
landlords and utility accounts—to get approved.
But just a year later, I was laid off during the
Great Recession. I had been in a middle position
that was no longer available. I pivoted. I
enrolled in massage therapy school and
launched a new career in 2011 while working
side jobs to stay afloat. The next year he lost his
job months before our wedding and fell into a
depression. I helped him build a handyman
business while also growing my massage
practice. We hustled.
In 2015, after another painful divorce, I found
myself living alone for the first time ever and
down to 1 income. I went into overdrive with my
massage business, booking nearly 150 hours in a
single month to make ends meet (80 is average).
It nearly broke me physically. My body gave up.
I sat down, ran the numbers, and realized
something shocking: I could afford my lifestyle.
In fact, my ex had been costing me more than he
contributed. I not only had enough—I had room
to hire a house cleaner so I could finally rest.
In 2017, when my roommate moved out, I realized
I didn’t use half the house. My business brain
kicked in. “This is wasted space. Find a use for it or
monetize it.” So I rented it out, downsized, and
moved into a condo. Every penny I had went into
making that transition. In April 2018, my tenants
moved in, and I settled into my new place.
Two months later, right before my 40th birthday
trip to Israel, both AC units in the rental and
condo failed. I still remember sitting with my
renters and falling into tears and feeling like the
universe had sucker punched me. They tried to
tell me it was ok not to replace the a/c unit but by
law and my own morals (June in Phoenix, come
on!), I knew it was what needed to be done. I had
to finance $12,000 worth of replacements within
24 hours—and just like that, my debt was higher
than my savings again. It was one of those
moments where you just stare at the ceiling, sigh
deeply, and remind yourself that you’ve survived
worse. I was maxed out—mentally, emotionally,
and financially.
A month later—while I was literally on the other
side of the world—I woke up to dozens of missed
calls and texts. My rental house had caught on
fire! My tenants were safe, but it was devastating.
I couldn’t fly home. I could only make calls and
hope for the best. The house was eventually
rebuilt, but those six months tested every ounce
of my endurance. Contractors, insurance, pushy
tenants—it was chaos. But I survived it.
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