Guest Post: The R-Word

Thanks to hazel for allowing to crosspost this from The Money Pit where she blogs about home renovation and her life.


Field and I are in a relationship.

We don’t have sex.

It’s a relationship where we split the bills and squabble over what kind of cheese to buy; where I get away with picking the bacon I want, and she has all the salt-and-vinegar chips her little heart desires; where we have long sprawling conversations at eleven o’clock at night about Books We’ve Read and Why Television Is Hard; where we email each other from our respective workplaces about what we want to eat for dinner, what we’ve read on the internet news that day, why four hours sleep is not enough, whether it’s a good idea to buy more wine (yes). But at the end of the day, we go to our separate beds in our separate rooms and close the doors.

And it’s invisible.

*

A few nights ago we had a conversation about how we want to refer to each other: we flatted with each other (and with Nish) for six years, but this is something new. We’re hiring plumbers now. In the end we decided that “co-owner” fit the best, but that’s not quite right either: too much business in the front, not enough party at the back. “Partners” has connotations that I in no way disapprove of, but which just aren’t accurate; it wouldn’t bother me in the slightest if people thought that Field and I were a couple, but we’re not. I toyed with “lady-wife”, mostly as a joke, but while that kind of shit is fun with friends it’s difficult to say with a straight face to your lawyer, your electrician, your bank-manager, your mum.

So co-owners it is for now, and we’ll change it if it stops being the closest match for what we are.

*

But we’re invisible, this thing. When I talk about buying a house with Field, I’m talking about my long-term life plan. I’m talking about planning a garden, about where we’re planting the fuschia (me) and the hebes (me) and the carpet roses (Field) and the agapanthus (over my dead body). I’m talking about the six-month conversation we’ll have about whether we’re going to wallpaper or paint the lounge, and what shade it should be, and what the curtains should be made of. I’m talking about how we run the kitchen, how we cook together, how we make plans to go to the supermarket and what our budget there will be. I’m in charge – always and forever – of making electronics Go; she’s in charge of the alphabet because my god how I hate reshelving books.

I’m talking about the two or three years of planning that went into this. I’m talking about how I researched suburbs and public transport routes; about how grateful I am that Field got her full licence and a car, and how much easier that made the house-hunting process. I’m talking about the gin-and-tonics she made us tonight for dinner, before she went to lie down on her bed in the summer evening sun and I came online to watch comedy routines on youtube and write this post. I’m talking about the expression of my hopes and dreams, my plans and schemes, how I’ve wanted to do up a house for forever (as long as Nish has known me, and that’s a bloody long time).

I’m talking about how we started having conversations about how we wanted this to work 18 months ago, how we set up a joint savings account over a year ago, how we now have 2 joint accounts plus the mortgage, insurance in both our names and shared household goods. I know where she was born, her date of birth, what her passport photograph looked like when she was thirteen. I chat to her mum sometimes on the phone a bit. She knows these things about me.
And so I have conversations with people about buying a house with Field, and what they hear is of two good friends buying a house together, and what they say is:

That’s sensible.

and

Have you thought about what would happen if you didn’t want to live together anymore?

*

And.

No. No, it isn’t sensible, you utter moron, do you know how much it would devastate me if it all turned to pot, how difficult it would be to disentangle our lives? Our finances are complicated and not wholly governed by standard law, but that’s the least of it when we have mostly shared friends and I can’t remember exactly how to cook dinner on my own anymore, when the kitchen seems strange when she’s not there to navigate around and pass me spoons and pepper.

and

Yes, what, you think we set up a joint savings account and talked to banks and lawyers and looked at houses and put in an offer and went unconditional and settled and moved without ever thinking about what we were doing? Without ever talking to each other about it?

*

This wasn’t an accident, this house in this street. It wasn’t the easy or the simple choice; it wasn’t obvious. It wasn’t a calculated financial decision. My life isn’t good financial planning – single girls without options, women on the shelf looking to get on the property ladder. I may be a spinster with a cat, but by god I have done it with intent.

On Big Decisions and Hysterical Ladybrains

Good friends of mine - I'll call them Hazel* and Catherine - are buying a house together. They're both women in their twenties; this is their first owned home and whilst they're not exactly poor, as the whole house buying thing would indicate, their incomes are sufficiently limited that they don't have a lot of choice.

Anyway, they have more or less completed a purchase; it's a doer upper, that will need significant work both inside and outside, and it's a commute out of the city, but it's both closer and more convenient to transport than most others in their price range, and it has the right number and configuration of rooms for their needs and whilst compromises have been made they're pretty happy about it. It's happened in a rush, and there is So Much To Do, but both of them seem excited, in amongst the terror.

But through the process, there have been Concerns. Doubts raised by people I shall amalgamate into the character of  'Concerned of Titahi Bay'**. Concerned of Titahi Bay thinks that the project they are taking on is too much work. Concerned of Titahi Bay thinks they should have bought in Kelburn or Petone or Mount Victoria or something (for those of you not familiar with Wellington, these are not remotely realistic places for them to buy a house on their budget). Concerned of Titahi Bay is very, very concerned that they are letting their hearts get in the way of their heads, that they are making emotional rather than rational decisions.

Hazel and Catherine are close friends, who have lived together a number of years. They are not in a sexual or romantic relationship, but this is not simply a matter of pooling resources for a few years in order to get on the property ladder before going their separate ways; they are a family and a household and intend to be so indefinitely.

Yup, you've guessed it. Concerned of Titahi Bay is very concerned. Have you thought, Concerned of Titahi Bay wants to know, of what's going to happen if you fall out! If one of you goes overseas! If one of you gets married! If you have different views on decisions about the property!

Yes, yes they have thought about that a lot. They've thought about what would happen if their lives took them in various directions. Or if they fell out. They're intelligent people, one of them has substantial legal knowledge. They've talked about this extensively, drawn up an agreement and each engaged a (separate) lawyer. These are sensible things to think about before making any major life decision, particularly one where your property is intertwined with that of someone else. It's sad - and infuriating - though, that had they been an engaged couple buying their first home, these issues may have come up but they likely wouldn't be at the forefront of people's minds.

They've also thought about the building work required. They've made provisional budgets and weighed the stress and time and money involved against the compromises - chiefly location - they would have to make if they bought another property within their budget. They've set a price range they can afford - not just in terms of the bank signing off, but someone that will reasonably fit into their day to day budget.

My partner and I bought a house about eighteen months ago. It's out of the city - significantly further out than Hazel and Catherine's new house. We don't have a car - aside from not being able to afford that and a house deposit at that time, I can't drive, primarily for disability reasons, and my partner chooses not to. I was shocked by the number of people who decide to tell me I was making a Very Bad Decision living where I do without a car. Leaving aside the limited amount of choice without making significant sacrifices in other areas, they were acting like I had never thought about this before. Like I didn't know that my life would be easier if I could drive. Like looking at transport options hadn't been top of our priority list. Like we hadn't been managing with public transport all our adult lives.

And then there's the whole emotional decision problem. Emotions are absolutely a valid part of any big life decision. They're not on the level of 'will attempting to meet the repayments be a recipe for bankruptcy', but if you're buying a house to live in, and you haven't thought about how you'll feel living in it, you're probably not going to end up that happy. It's not that advice isn't helpful. I've benefited a lot, when making Big Decisions (and I'm sure my friends have too) from people sharing stories, giving local or technical knowledge, or simply being a sounding board to talk things through with. But I wish people would do that with the assumption that the people they are talking to - even if they are women in their twenties! - are both intelligent people who are capable of thinking about the major issues and have priorities which may not be your own, but are no less legitimate for that.

I'll leave the last (edited) word to Hazel:

We've got the "you need to not make emotional decisions" thing from almost every guy we've talked to. Most of the women I've spoken to about house buying have (a) accepted that an emotional reaction to the place is totally okay and (b) assumed that we've, like, thought about that shit. I just really feel that if we were two dudes buying a fixer-upper in [suburb], the things we're getting told would be different and we wouldn't be being accused of having been MAKING STUPID DECISIONS BECAUSE OF OUR HYSTERICAL LADYBRAINS.

* I asked Hazel tonight what I should blog about and she ranted for a bit, and I said "so basically about you and your lifedrama". "Yes," she said. So here it is.