Where I Am Now
New Orleans called us home.
I don't guide clients through anything I haven't done myself.
In 2021, my husband and I were house hunting all over the country. Tucson. Raleigh. Nashville. Cincinnati. On our third Cincinnati tour we were standing inside an 1883 house when Jonathan looked at me and said, "Every house we look at reminds me of New Orleans. Why are we not looking there?"
Because I'm a sixth-generation New Orleanian who didn't realize we could move back home before retirement, that's why!
Real talk: we'd been circling New Orleans for a long time. We just hadn't given ourselves permission to want what we actually wanted. By the time we finally said yes, we had two weekends to find a house. We went under contract the exact weekend rates spiked in June 2022.
Everyone said we should wait. We didn't. Like I always say, life is going to life, and the market's going to market. The right time to buy is when it's right for your family. For us, that was before our daughter started first grade. She's had four Mardi Gras seasons now because we weren't scared of a rate closer to 7% than 4%. And she gets to grow up knowing what it means to be The Seventh.
My only regret? Not the city. Not the house. Not the rate. It's the years we spent waiting for permission. If you already know what you want, you don't need a "perfect" market to give it to you.
More than four years later, we're still here and still building. In March 2020, my mortgage production let my husband retire. I built this business out of a grief fog, a Facebook group and a funnel I made myself. And I'm just getting started.
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