Few surprises as chancellor uses low-key speech blaming ‘global economic storms’ for stoking energy prices and cost of living crisis

• Budget 2026: key points at a glance

• Briefing: key questions answered by Heather Stewart and Pippa Crerar

• Editorial: Budget’s bold ambitions and welcome first steps

John Healey raised taxes on banks and landlords to fund a £100 winter handout for 20 million families as official forecasts made clear there is no end in sight for the cost of living crisis.

In his first budget, the chancellor blamed “global economic storms” for the grim outlook, as the war in Iran drives up oil and gas prices.

• Beyoncé and Jay-Z purchased a home that set a record for the priciest home in California in 2023.
• The $190 million Malibu mansion is just one of the many properties they own around the country.
• Here are the homes they're linked to, from a former church in New Orleans to a Hamptons estate.

Beyoncé and Jay-Z break music records — and real-estate records.

The couple, whose combined net worth is nearly $4 billion as of publication, according to Forbes, is linked to numerous partnerships and deals, including Jay-Z's upcoming Super Bowl halftime performance, as well as several multimillion-dollar homes across the United States.

In 2023, they bought a 42,000-square-foot Malibu estate with a minimalist concrete aesthetic, designed by famed Japanese architect Tadao Ando. The price? $190 million — one of the largest sums in California history.

In New Orleans, the "Cowboy Carter" singer and the rapper-turned-entrepreneur have been linked to a former Presbyterian church that has been transformed into a mansion.

Beyoncé and Jay-Z's impressive property portfolio also includes another mansion in the Los Angeles area and several homes in New York. They are also reportedly in talks to purchase a 58-acre plot of land in the Cotswolds that they plan to develop in the future.

Take a look at Beyoncé and Jay-Z's homes across the country.

Beyoncé came from humble beginnings in Houston.

Beyoncé's rise to stardom began in a modest, middle-class neighborhood in Houston's Third Ward.

2414 Rosedale Street has three bedrooms and three bathrooms over 8,640 square feet, according to the listing from 2019.

According to the Associated Press, the Knowles family purchased the home in 1982, not long after Beyoncé was born, and moved out when she was about 5.

In 2019, the home was listed for sale for about $500,000. Because Texas is a non-disclosure state, it's unclear how much it sold for.

Beyoncé was spotted taking photos of the home in September 2023 during the Houston stop of her Renaissance World Tour, the AP reported.

The couple is linked to a Tribeca penthouse, where they married in 2008.

In September 2004, Jay-Z, who voiced his aspirations for success in his hit rap song 'Big Pimpin', made one of his first big real-estate purchases.

The native New Yorker, who was about 34 at the time, spent $6.85 million on a penthouse at 195 Hudson Street in the downtown Manhattan neighborhood of Tribeca.

Architectural Digest reported that the 8,000-square-foot apartment has an additional 3,000 square feet of outdoor terrace space. It's in a 27-unit building that was converted from a 1929 brick warehouse in 1999, real-estate listings site StreetEasy reported.

In 2008, he and Beyoncé held an intimate wedding ceremony at the penthouse, with 40 people in attendance. Architectural Digest reported in 2024 that the couple is believed to still own the home.

The couple rented out a Los Angeles mansion for $150,000 a month

In 2014, the Carters house-hunted on the East Coast, considering several properties. One was an eight-bedroom, 15-bathroom Beverly Hills mansion that they were outbid for by Markus Persson, the billionaire creator of the video game Minecraft. (Persson listed the mansion for sale in October 2026 for $70 million.)

After being outbid on several other properties, the couple decided to rent a home in the Los Angeles neighborhood of Holmby Hills, Architectural Digest reported. The 20,000-square-foot estate was valued at $4 million in 2015, according to Realtor.com. At the time, the couple paid a whopping $150,000 a month in rent. When the property was eventually sold in 2015, they moved on.

Beyoncé and Jay-Z are also linked to a home in New Orleans that used to be a church.

Louisiana is where Beyoncé's mother, fashion designer Tina Knowles, was born and raised.

In 2015, multiple news outlets reported that the couple purchased a Spanish Baroque-style mansion in New Orleans' Garden District. The house on Harmony Street, locally known as La Casa de Castille, was listed for $2.6 million at the time of its purchase, but the exact sales purchase price remains a mystery due to Louisiana's non-disclosure policy.

NOLA.com outlined how the church became a residence: In the 1920s, Westminster Presbyterian Church built it, and 38 members of the Ku Klux Klan allegedly attended its groundbreaking ceremony. Following years of vacancy, dancer Harvey Hysell transformed it into a ballet theater in 1977. Finally, in the early 2000s, it was purchased and extensively renovated.

According to the old Zillow listing, it still has 16-foot ceilings and stained-glass windows. The 13,300-square-foot, three-story property, made up of a main residence and three separate apartments, has a total of seven bedrooms, eight bathrooms, and a rooftop garden.

In 2021, there was a fire on the property, and it was listed for sale shortly after at $3.5 million, later increased to $4.45 million, TMZ reported. However, it was later taken off the market, according to Architectural Digest.

On Google Maps' Street View, La Casa de Castille is blurred, suggesting that it may still be a private residence.

Beyoncé and Jay-Z own a home in the Hamptons.

Beyoncé and Jay-Z have a New York state of mind when it comes to real estate.

In addition to the Tribeca penthouse and a midtown Manhattan condo — which Beyoncé owned prior to their marriage and sold in 2017 for $10 million — they have rented and owned several homes in the Hamptons.

In 2012, the year their daughter Blue Ivy was born, they leased a 31,000-square-foot vacation home in Bridgehampton for $400,000 a month.

Beyond the standard luxuries like a bar, a pool, and a tennis court, that mansion also featured a bowling alley, rock climbing wall, and skateboard half-pipe, according to Architectural Digest.

In 2017, the couple purchased the Pond House in East Hampton for $26 million.

Located at 81 Briar Patch Road, the 12,000-square-foot mansion with seven bedrooms, seven bathrooms, and a separate cottage was designed by architect Stanford White, whose work includes the arch in Washington Square Park.

The couple's waterfront property sits across from Georgica Pond and a 17-acre meadow preserve, offering unparalleled privacy.

Beyoncé and Jay-Z purchased a 34,000-square-foot estate in Bel Air in 2017.

Also in 2017, Beyoncé and Jay-Z bought an $88 million mansion in Bel Air. They welcomed twins Rumi and Sir that year, too.

The ultramodern 34,000-square-foot estate has eight bedrooms, 20 bathrooms, and a 90-foot infinity pool, according to its Zillow listing.

It has more than 10,000 square feet of outdoor living space and offers panoramic views of the Angeles National Forest.

In 2023, Beyoncé and Jay-Z bought the most expensive home in California history.

In 2023, Beyoncé and Jay-Z purchased a 40,000-square-foot mansion in Malibu's exclusive Paradise Cove neighborhood, which some have dubbed "Billionaires' Beach," for $190 million.

The sale set a record at the time for the most expensive property transaction in California. It was also the largest residential sale nationwide that year.

The estate's record-breaking price tag is attributed in part to its high-pedigree design and extensive array of amenities.

According to Architectural Digest, it took the previous owners, art collectors Bill Bell and his wife Maria Bell, a decade and a half to complete the building.

Spanning more than 8 acres, the compound is designed in the Japanese minimalist style for which its architect, Tadao Ando, is known.

According to E! News, the main residence has 8 bedrooms and 11 bathrooms, while its living room features custom-made fixtures imported from Italy. Outside, there are four separate pools, a bar, and a private helipad.

The couple is reportedly in talks to purchase a 58-acre plot of land in the Cotswolds in England.

The Cotswolds, a picturesque region spanning parts of southwestern and south-central England, is known for its rolling green hills, centuries-old villages, and historic estates.

With luxury properties often commanding multimillion-pound prices, the area has earned the nickname "the Hamptons of England." It has long attracted prominent British residents, including David and Victoria Beckham, actress Elizabeth Hurley, and supermodel Kate Moss.

More recently, the Cotswolds have also attracted wealthy Americans. Beyoncé and Jay-Z are reportedly among them, The Times reported in September.

According to the publication, the Carters are considering a £7.5 million ($8.54 million) 58-acre property in Wigginton, a village with fewer than 200 residents. Owain Jones, who is handling the sale, told The Times that their plans to develop the land could bring the project's total cost to about £18 million (or about $20. 5 million).

Should the Carters move forward with the purchase, they would not be far from the Beckhams and Simon Cowell, who reportedly own homes in the nearby village of Great Tew.

However, the proposed construction has upset some Wigginton residents, who are concerned about preserving the village's peace and quiet, House & Garden reported.

• I lived in Hawaii for 13 years and moved to the continental United States in 2021.
• Life on the mainland has come with many surprises, from heavier traffic to more air conditioning.
• Hawaii doesn't observe daylight-saving time, so the time change has taken some getting used to.

After living in Hawaii for 13 years — my entire adult life — I decided to move to North Carolina in 2021 for my MBA. While in school, I met my husband, and together, we relocated to Atlanta to pursue our careers.

However, after spending so much time in Hawaii, moving to the mainland came with some surprises. Here are eight of the biggest culture shocks I've experienced.

On the mainland, I spend much more time in my car.

When I lived on the Big Island of Hawaii, I rarely had to drive more than 30 minutes at a time. Everything from work to the grocery store to the beach was just a short car ride away. A trip across the island felt like a journey.

So, it took me some time to adjust to the longer commutes in mainland cities. Rush-hour traffic is now a regular occurrence, rather than something I see in movies. And now, driving an hour to work or to visit friends is standard where I live.

Even though driving isn't always my favorite activity, I love that I can get in my car and head to another state in just a few hours. It's given my husband and me a lot of fun weekend road trips.

Daylight-saving time is new for me.

Hawaii doesn't follow daylight-saving time, and instead stays on Hawaii Standard Time all year long. So when I first came to the mainland, the time changes twice a year really confused me.

I still have to look up when daylight-saving time begins and ends, especially when I'm referencing what time it is back in Hawaii. Thankfully, I keep a list of cities on my clock app to keep track of the time difference.

Experiencing four distinct seasons has changed how I observe time passing.

Moving to a place with seasons meant buying winter clothing and seeing the leaves bursting into bright oranges and reds in the fall.

This is different from the islands, where the seasons are largely the rainy season and dry season. I now look forward to seasonal transitions and the festivities that come with each one.

Air conditioning is much more common on the mainland.

Many homes in Hawaii, including the one where I lived, use the trade winds for cooling. My home had jalousie windows with horizontal glass slats that let the breeze pass through.

In contrast, buildings here in the Southeast are typically climate-controlled using air conditioning and heating units.

If I'm being honest, I still have to carry a sweater around to keep warm when the air conditioning is strong. However, dependable air conditioning is especially nice during hot, humid summers.

Locally grown fruit is now a summer staple.

In Hawaii, because the climate is pretty mild year-round, many fruits have multiple or continuous growing seasons. Plus, I always knew someone who was giving fruits away from their backyard.

Here in the Southeast, though, fresh fruits feel more seasonal. I now get excited for peach season and the long lines at local farmers markets.

On the mainland, the weather is harder to predict.

Where I lived in Hawaii, I'd look out over the ocean and be able to predict the next few hours of weather pretty accurately.

After years of living there, I understood the patterns of the clouds and wind, and could typically gauge the amount of time I needed to make it home from a run or the beach before the weather turned.

However, I have a much tougher time guessing what the weather will be like on the mainland. I now rely a lot more on weather forecasts to know what to expect.

The billboards took me by surprise.

Billboards aren't allowed in Hawaii, so when I first moved to the Southeast, I couldn't believe how many huge signs dotted the skylines.

Now I get a kick out of reading them and analyzing the marketing, but it's always interesting returning to Hawaii and seeing how open the landscape is without them.

Fast-food restaurants on the mainland are missing Spam.

Chicken and burgers are staples of fast-food restaurants on the mainland, but Hawaii's famous chains often feature rice and Spam.

Now, when I visit my favorite chains, I miss getting Spam musubi — Spam wrapped in rice and seaweed.

• Yolanda Williams, 46, bought 3 acres in Arkansas and moved there with her daughter.
• She invited another single mom she met online to live on the property with her two kids.
• They now share expenses, childcare, and emotional support in what they call a "mommune."

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Yolanda Williams, 46, who lives in central Arkansas with her 9-year-old daughter on a farm with another single mom and her two kids. They help each other with childcare, mental support, and more. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

In 2021, after my daughter Gia and I got COVID, we decided to take a drive one day. I came across this one little road that I fell in love with.

We kept coming back, driving around this neighborhood in Arkansas, and it became our Sunday thing. We'd get in the car and get ourselves a sweet treat — me a coffee and her a cinnamon roll — and drive around for an hour looking at all the different farms and houses and really just visualizing the life we wanted.

We did that for two years before I found our 3.19-acre land in rural Arkansas. After visiting it, I purchased the land in 2023 on Facebook Marketplace, For-Sale-By-Owner. It cost $40,000 to buy, and I put down $12,000.

It was fully forested raw land, so I could only see part of it, but I used a real estate agent for the process. At the end of 2024, I secured a grant to help pay for the infrastructure, and I spent 2025 getting the land ready to move into. We didn't move until March 2026 because the land needed clearing and practical things such as a driveway and utilities.

The process was expensive because I didn't have much money left to build anything on the land. We got an RV as a place to stay, stash money, and build in the next five years.

Before I'm 50, I would like to have a permanent home built on the land

I'm from Southern California, and when I left in 2017, I was paying $600 to rent a guest room from my friend. Now, I pay $485 for my land mortgage and $400 for my RV payment a month. So, all in all, for me to be on this land, it's around $885 per month. Utilities run about $150 to $200 a month in the summer, and then $100 for water. It's exponentially cheaper to live like this, especially in Arkansas.

Here we have the freedom to roam and to be outside. I'm always in the garden. I've actually lost 30lbs since March because I move so much, and I didn't even realize it. I'm getting a lot more sun and exercise — so is my daughter. I feel more content, I feel more at peace.

However, this move has turned into so much more than that for us. I've been a single mom since my daughter Gia was born. She's 9 now, and I've never truly felt what it's like to have support, to have someone around all the time. By chance, that all changed this year.

I'm not sure who followed who first, but I met a single mom called Sunnie on Threads

She posted on the social media app Threads about wanting to buy land, and I commented back that she should consider Arkansas. I explained to her that land is cheap out here, and I gave her a bunch of information.

A few months later, I randomly saw her posting on Threads that she was in Arkansas with her two kids, who were 11 and 5 years old, looking for land, so I slipped into her DMs, and we exchanged numbers. I texted her to arrange a meet-up and to show her my land. Mind you, this was before I had actually moved onto the property.

The first time we met, we had pizza with the kids. They had a look around, and the kids played really well together. Gia likes the pizza crust but not the actual pizza, and one of Sunnie's kids likes the pizza but not the crust, so it worked out perfectly.

They helped me around the property as I was in the main stretch of getting everything ready for me to move on to. That's when we got to talking about her potentially living here while she searched for her own land.

Sunnie lived in a different city about an hour from me, and she didn't know anyone in Arkansas. I offered her the chance to stay with us to avoid spending money on hotels and Ubers. Although she wanted to buy her own land, I made it clear that she was welcome to stay with me as long as she wanted to. We now split the mortgage and utility costs in half.

That's how our "mommune" started.

Although we didn't know each other for long, I felt a strong connection and vibe

I loved that she was very much like, "I want to put my gloves on, and I want to help you," when it came to laying the foundations around the property, such as weeding, spraying for ticks, building planters, and sowing seeds. Now we garden together and grow as much as we can — like comfrey, lemon balm, mint, and basil. We even make our own fertilizer.

And you know, that's what's missing. A lot of people want this life, but they don't want to actually roll their sleeves up and get dirty to help one another.

Sunnie was essentially a complete stranger. But what I've been trying to do is listen to myself and trust myself. I really felt a great vibe from Sunnie, and my daughter really took to her. We got along, and it just felt right.

Yes, it's hard to build trust because you can't really trust anyone until you start to be around them all the time, but the whole thing with Sunnie is she came, and we sat, and we had a discussion about money and about expectations and about childcare. You just have to be willing to have the hard conversations in order to build a community, and I want to be around people who understand me.

We're now growing food together and raising wildlings.

This is our matriarchal community

What I always try to tell people is we need to decenter and deprioritize romantic relationships and just focus on relationships in general, whatever that support looks like.

Whether that's friendship or family, focus on building that community, and we will get the support we're looking for, but if you're only focused on needing a man or a husband or partner to have security to feel supported, then a lot of people will miss out on invaluable support with friends or other women.

For example, I was having a really hard time this Mother's Day — it's just a hard day for me. Sunnie saw that I wasn't in a good space, so she took the kids and left so I could get some alone time. Having that support and knowing that I can say "hey, I'm having a hard time with motherhood right now" and someone will not only understand but will help me through that by watching my kid for me, taking her to the park, or giving me some space — it has been life-changing. It's the support that I need.

We really just help each other out. When I have to leave and go somewhere, I'll ask her to come inside the RV or to watch Gia play outside, and she does. Vice versa — if she needs me to watch her children, it's really not a big deal. We just ask each other for favors like: "If you're out at the store, can you get me this?"

We communicate really well with each other, and we help each other out any way we need to, and that includes having dinner together sometimes, watching TV together, and I will let her kids come over here so she can have a break and be able to be in her RV by herself, or we'll go to the park so she can be by herself sometimes.

Ever since I met Sunnie, I can just tell there's a change in my nervous system. Having someone here means I can tap out. I'm 46 this year, and I wouldn't trade this mommune we've built for the world.

HOA president was not on the list of titles Lana Martin ever planned to hold, but it's one that's befallen her.

Martin bought a townhouse in a 13-unit complex in Los Angeles in 2022. She quickly realized that the leaders of her homeowners association were ignoring a number of unaddressed issues, including a leaky decades-old roof that was flooding her neighbors' living rooms. Martin, who works for the California state government, decided to join her complex's three-person board to help out.

As the saying goes, no good deed goes unpunished.

The other two board members aren't very involved, so "everything falls on me," Martin says. She handles vendor calls, fields resident complaints, and babysits a low-budget property manager. Residents raised hell about the roof replacement project — they didn't want to stomach the roughly $160,000 cost that meant a painful $13,000 assessment for each unit. Some of them accused the HOA board and management company of acting illegally and threatened to lawyer up. Martin has had to block some of her neighbors' phone numbers.

"They wanted to second guess everything, Monday-morning quarterback everything, rather than just become involved," Martin says.

The reluctance to participate is understandable. It's also part of what's left Martin holding the bag.

HOAs are easy to hate. They are private mini-governments made up of non-expert volunteers who happen to live in proximity with one another. Across the country, millions of Americans have bought into condos, co-ops, and subdivisions governed by these associations, tethering their largest financial asset to an amateur bureaucracy. Most HOA stories are told from the outside looking in: a beleaguered resident hit with a ridiculous fine over a rogue garden hose or an overgrown lawn. Talk to the people who've ventured into the belly of the beast, and the picture gets gnarlier: You give up a ton of time, don't get paid, and everybody's always a bit mad at you.

And yet, HOA setups are growing. There were 373,000 community associations in the US in 2025, covering 29.6 million housing units and 78.1 million residents. By comparison, there were 222,500 in 2000. These entities collected $124.2 billion in assessments last year — about 1.5 times New York City's total tax revenue for the same year. You can see why things get so heated, and not just about money.

"HOAs are the ultimate pressure cooker environment for human interactions," says A.J. Steigman, a Florida real estate investor who currently sits on two boards. "You can cure cancer, you can pave the place in gold, you can even lower the HOA fees, and yet you're still going to have some elderly couple constantly complain about their flower patch."

Why would anyone in their right mind raise their hand for this?

HOAs typically attract two distinct archetypes, says Evan McKenzie, a political science professor at the University of Illinois Chicago and author of "Privatopia: Homeowner Associations and the Rise of Residential Private Government." On one side are the reluctant pragmatists — people who step up out of civic duty or sheer self-defense. On the other are what McKenzie calls the "condo commando" types who have some pretty strict ideas about how the people next door ought to live. For them, the board is a badge of domestic authority. Once they wind up in the same room, these groups inevitably clash — or, perhaps even worse, they run up against the paralyzing apathy of everyone else.

The paradox of HOA leadership is that the moment an owner displays basic competence, the rest of the community often abdicates. That's how James, a product designer in LA, landed in his current situation. He asked me to withhold his last name in order to protect his privacy — and keep from ruffling feathers among his neighbors.

HOAs are the ultimate pressure cooker environment for human interactions.

Back in 2021, a couple of people in his complex asked him to help out since he works from home and could keep an eye on things. He officially joined the board in 2023 and now acts as an unwitting customer service desk. Residents email the board about petty issues like intercom numbers and rat spottings. One recent Friday night, someone emailed to report a gas leak. "It's like, you need to call 911," James says.

He can't walk around his residence without risking someone coming up to him to pitch an idea or air a grievance. "You're never really off the clock," he says. He wishes he could quit, but no one else will step up.

Olivia Horbowy's story is one of self-preservation. When she bought an older top-floor condo in LA in 2024, the concept of an HOA was quite foreign to her. There were signs something might be amiss when she informed the building's then-leadership of her renovation plans for her new place — demands for extra documentation, a denied in-unit washer-dryer — but she brushed them off. She is an attorney, after all. But after moving into the space in the spring of 2025, she received notice of $15,200 in surprise accumulated fines related to the remodel. "They were convinced they were above the law and could make any decision they wanted," she says. After some legal back-and-forth, she didn't wind up paying.

As a result of the incident, Horbowy also decided to run for the five-person board herself. Victory wasn't entirely sweet, because of one preexisting board member's reaction. In emails, the aggrieved veteran referred to one member as a "kiss ass minion," accused the board president of taking bribes, and called Horbowy a "Russian whore." (She's Polish.) That member eventually resigned.

What makes HOAs and condo boards different from, for example, a corporate board is the question of interest, explains Nadav Shoked, a law professor at Northwestern. In HOA boards, the directors and the people affected by the decisions are often one and the same — and their neighbors. While they all have a common interest — the property — they often have interests that conflict.

People of a certain age, even though they may not be financially insecure, they worry about, will the money run out in my lifetime?

HOA boards contend with all sorts of fault lines. Older residents on fixed incomes tend to prioritize keeping monthly fees lower, while younger families lean toward upping fees for more amenities and construction projects. In situations where some owners live in their residences and others rent them out, boards wind up with a triangle of interests: Landlords want low costs and easy rental terms, full-time residents prioritize day-to-day quality of life, and renters wade through all of it without having a say.

These disconnects are why routine governance so frequently devolves into absurdity.

Andrew Simkovsky just wanted an investment property when he bought a condo in South Florida in 2024, but he wound up orchestrating a "hostile takeover" of the board amid concerns over their stewardship of said investment. He's since worked to rebuild the condo's finances and reestablish a budget. Still, the one thing that's surprised him is the hullabaloo over pets. The building's original bylaws from the 1970s officially barred them. In the '80s, there was an amendment allowing pets for owners but not renters, but over the decades, both groups had brought them in. The association's attorney advised them that enforcing the pet ban for tenants could be legally problematic, so Simkovsky decided to bring the building into the 21st century by officially allowing dogs and cats of up to 50 pounds for owners and instituting rules around leashes and cleanup that hadn't previously been in place. (Renters are still technically not allowed to have pets, but the board doesn't enforce that.) Purist residents revolted and wanted pets out. "My response to them was, they're already here, should I evict them?" he says.

Alice Young, a retiree in suburban Chicago, says she's fine to serve on her board as long as it doesn't cut into her pickleball time, even though "everything takes so goldarn long to resolve." Among the lengthy items on her agenda are finding a new property management company and convincing a fellow board member to personally confirm a single extension cord has been removed from the basement in order to close out another board member's violation.

The true crisis inside the HOA machine is money. Many boards have kept dues artificially low for decades in order to appease residents and put off pricey updates. Now, aging housing stock is colliding with surging insurance premiums, stricter reserve laws, and tighter safety regulations, and the bill is coming due.

Florida is an especially stark example. It has the second-most community associations of any state, behind only California, with 50,600 such groups covering 4.5 million housing units and 10.9 million residents. Neighbors who live under Florida HOAs kick in over $20 billion to their associations annually. A 2023 Florida Senate analysis found that 912,000 of the state's 1.5 million condo units were at least 30 years old. After the 2021 collapse of the Surfside condominiums that left 98 people dead, the state required qualifying buildings to undergo "milestone" structural inspections after a certain age and changed the rules so owners can't simply vote to underfund reserves for major structural repairs. In 2024, Redfin found double-digit annual increases in condo dues in Tampa, Orlando, Fort Lauderdale, and West Palm Beach.

This creates a brutal fiduciary burden. When Paul Vesely joined the board for his Florida second-home condo in 2009, the complex's on-site managers warned him against commissioning an engineering inspection, because "they might find something." The association has since taken out over $2 million in loans to pay for various updates and renovations, which translates to thousands of dollars a year for each unit. One owner, who has cancer, is currently delinquent on her payments, and the board will send her to collections if she doesn't pay. "As badly as we may feel about a certain individual, we have to be consistent," he says.

Not everyone shares the same economic clock. Bill Masterson recalls attending a condo meeting in Chicago years ago in which an elderly man pushed back against a $225,000 assessment to put in a parking lot. "Why can't you wait until I die?" the man asked. The board went ahead anyway, and the man lived for another several years. "People of a certain age, even though they may not be financially insecure, they worry about, will the money run out in my lifetime?" he says.

Masterson swore off condo boards when he moved from Chicago to Florida in 2016 and then signed right back up. He admits he's a stickler for the rules, but he's also aware of how silly disputes can break down relationships. One of his neighbors doesn't speak to him because of a long-past disagreement over a speed bump.

"That's OK, because the work gets done," he says. "You never know in a given moment what pressure people are under."

Lana Martin, back in LA, says contending with everything has been a "wild ride." She spoke to me the day roof construction on her complex had finally begun. She's relieved, but there's more work to be done. Next up: writing up a towing policy. "People won't voluntarily just agree, 'Oh yeah, I shouldn't block driveways,'" she says.

Emily Stewart is a senior correspondent at Business Insider, writing about business and the economy.

• The US has diverse architecture and building designs across the 50 states.
• History, art, and local aesthetics are all reflected in some of America's most unique buildings.
• From prehistoric dwellings to kitschy designs, these buildings make for unique tourist attractions.

Throughout its 250-year history, the US has produced some striking and unique architecture that you can't find anywhere else — and lots of it can look wildly different across state lines.

Defining what we consider "coolest" is hard. We evaluated every state on its own terms and found that the architecture across all 50 states and Washington, DC, can be as diverse as the country's population.

In states like California and Massachusetts, picking the most striking building meant finding ones that look futuristic and elegant, like something out of a science-fiction movie. In other states, like Maine and the Carolinas, we found that the coolest buildings are distinctive because of their place in history or their states' cultures.

Whether you're looking for a piece of history or a glimpse into the future, these buildings can show you what different worlds look like.

James Grebey and Jacob Shamsian contributed to an earlier version of this story.

ALABAMA: Gulf, Mobile, and Ohio Passenger Terminal

The Gulf, Mobile, and Ohio Passenger Terminal in Mobile, Alabama, which has Spanish influences with its cream walls and red clay tiles, was designed by P. Thornton Marye. It was completed in 1907 and has undergone restoration since passenger train service ceased in the 1950s.

ALASKA: The University of Alaska's Museum of the North

The University of Alaska Museum of the North is home to numerous exhibits showcasing the native cultures, natural wonders, and wildlife of our nation's largest state. It's also a stylish refuge from the cold.

ARIZONA: Chapel of the Holy Cross

The Chapel of the Holy Cross in Sedona was completed in 1956, and it juts majestically from a red stone butte, some 200 feet above the ground.

ARKANSAS: Thorncrown Chapel

The beautiful Thorncrown Chapel in Eureka Springs looks like an open-air structure, but it's actually a serene, glass-enclosed architectural marvel.

CALIFORNIA: The Chemosphere

It was designed in 1960, but the Chemosphere still looks futuristic. It's a house with 2,200 square feet of space, perched atop a 30-foot concrete pole. And it's survived every major Californian earthquake in the San Fernando Valley since it was built.

COLORADO: Cliff Palace in Mesa Verde National Park

Mesa Verde National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, features some of the best-preserved prehistoric landscapes of the Ancestral Puebloan people. These ancient dwellings, where the Ancestral Puebloans once lived, were constructed on the sides of natural cliffs.

While most dwellings had only one to five rooms, the Cliff Palace, the largest known cliff dwelling in North America, had 150 rooms, 23 sacred meeting spaces, and housed about 100 people, according to the National Park Service.

CONNECTICUT: Grace Farms

The main feature of Grace Farms in New Canaan is a serpentine wooden pavilion that links glass-walled rooms, including a library, stage, tea room, and a gym with a full basketball court. Completed in 2015, it's open to the public for free.

DELAWARE: Wilmington's Grand Opera House

The country's oldest state has some classic buildings that stand the test of time. Wilmington's Grand Opera House, built in 1871, is as classic as it gets.

FLORIDA: The Salvador Dalí Museum

The Salvador Dalí Museum in St. Petersburg is a fittingly unique tribute to the beloved master of surrealism. The museum boasts the largest collection of Dalí's work outside Europe.

GEORGIA: The Earth Lodge on Ocmulgee Mounds National Historical Park

This might not look much like other buildings in this list, but the Ocmulgee Mounds National Park's Earth Lodge dates back to the year 1015, per the National Park Service.

The lodge is a reconstructed council chamber of the native Mississippian culture. While the walls and ceiling were reconstructed in the late 1930s, the clay floor remains the same as the original, dating back over a thousand years.

HAWAII: ʻIolani Palace

ʻIolani Palace in Honolulu is the only royal palace on United States soil. David Kalākaua, the last reigning king of Hawaiʻi and the first monarch to travel around the world, was inspired by the European palaces he saw during his 1881 voyage.

IDAHO: The Dog Bark Park Inn

The Dog Bark Park Inn in Cottonwood is a delightful piece of American kitsch. The bed and breakfast is shaped like two charming beagles.

ILLINOIS: Bahá'í House of Worship

Although there are between 5 and 6 million adherents to the Bahá'í Faith, there are only eight continental houses of worship worldwide. The one in Wilmette, Illinois, is the oldest still standing, and the only one in the United States.

INDIANA: West Baden Springs Hotel

When the West Baden Springs Hotel opened in 1902, it was billed as the Eighth Wonder of the World. While enjoying the view from inside the massive domed atrium — at one point the largest in the world — it's easy to see why.

IOWA: Grotto of the Redemption

Father Paul Dobberstein promised to build a shrine to the Virgin Mary as she helped cure his grave case of pneumonia. His resulting Grotto of the Redemption in West Bend is made of rocks, shells, fossils, and gems pressed into concrete. It's the size of a football field.

KANSAS: Big Well in Greensburg

The Big Well in Greensburg is a museum that rests atop its titular main attraction: the largest hand-dug well in the world, spanning 32 feet in diameter and reaching a depth of 109 feet.

KENTUCKY: Churchill Downs

Churchill Downs, most famously the host of the Kentucky Derby, can hold 120,000 excited, sometimes rowdy, racing fans at max capacity.

LOUISIANA: The Pontalba Buildings

The Pontalba Buildings, which make up two sides of New Orleans' Jackson Square, are emblematic of the French Quarter. Some of the residences on the upper floors are believed to be the oldest continuously rented apartments in the country.

MAINE: The Portland Head Light

The Portland Head Light — one of the state's many lighthouses — has been around since 1791. It was built under the directive of George Washington himself.

MARYLAND: The American Visionary Art Museum

The American Visionary Art Museum in Baltimore showcases outsider art. All the works within its wonky exterior were made by inspired, self-taught creators.

MASSACHUSETTS: Simmons Hall at MIT

Simmons Hall at MIT is the coolest dorm building in the US. It looks like a monstrous Tetris piece combined with underground caverns.

MICHIGAN: Charles H. Wright Museum of African American History

The museum, one of the oldest and largest dedicated to African American history, is a three-story building designed with influences of African and local Detroit architecture. The building features a stunning 55-foot-tall glass dome ceiling.

MINNESOTA: The Marjorie McNeely Conservatory

The Marjorie McNeely Conservatory at Saint Paul's Como Park was opened to the public in 1915 and features Japanese, Bonsai, and butterfly gardens, among others.

MISSISSIPPI: Gehry's Pods at the Ohr-O'Keefe Museum of Art

Designed by Frank Gehry — whose striking work also includes the Louis Vuitton Foundation in Paris, the Walt Disney Concert Hall in Los Angeles, and the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao in Spain — the curved metal pods, which house pottery at Biloxi's Ohr-O'Keefe Museum of Art, are meant to look as if they were "dancing with the trees," per the museum's website.

MISSOURI: The Community Bookshelf

The parking garage at the Kansas City Library is called the Community Bookshelf. It displays the giant spines of 22 classic books that were suggested by Kansas City readers.

MONTANA: Montana State Capitol building

Construction started on the Montana State Capitol in 1896. The inside of the rotunda salutes four types of people central to the state's early history: a native American, an explorer, a gold miner, and a cowboy.

NEBRASKA: Nebraska State Capitol Building

The Nebraska Capitol in Lincoln is one of the greatest state capitol buildings in the US. Built between 1922 and 1932, the building features artworks representing the development of law and the state of Nebraska.

NEVADA: Ward Charcoal Ovens

The Ward Charcoal Ovens in Ely were built in the 1870s for silver mining.

The distinctive beehive-shaped Ward Charcoal Ovens in Ely were built for silver mining back in the 1870s, and they still look like nothing else on the landscape.

NEW HAMPSHIRE: Mount Washington Hotel

Built in 1902, the Mount Washington Hotel — today operating as the Omni Mount Washington Resort — is one of the last remaining grand hotels in the state, and is rumored to be haunted.

NEW JERSEY: Nassau Hall at Princeton University

Nassau Hall is the oldest building at Princeton University, dating back to the 1750s. While it now houses the school's administrative offices, during the Revolutionary War it was occupied by both British and American forces and suffered damage during the battles.

NEW MEXICO: Taos Pueblo

Hundreds of years old, the Taos Pueblo is a multi-story complex built by Native Americans from the region. It looks like one big, molded piece, and it's still used as a residence.

NEW YORK: The Chrysler Building

The Empire State Building gets all the hype, but it's the Chrysler Building that's really the most magnificent skyscraper in New York City. The Art Deco-style building was the tallest in the world when it was built, but it was beaten out by — you guessed it — the Empire State Building just 11 months later.

NORTH CAROLINA: The Executive Mansion

North Carolina's Executive Mansion in Raleigh is the home of the governor.

Give it to North Carolina for having its most beautiful building designated as a civil landmark. The state's Executive Mansion in Raleigh is the home of the governor and a high-profile event venue that's open to public tours.

NORTH DAKOTA: The North Dakota Heritage Center

At the center of the North Dakota Heritage Center in Bismarck is a great glass cube flanked by two copper-colored wings. It's the home of the state's greatest treasures, including Native American historical artifacts and lots of dinosaur fossils.

OHIO: The Longaberger Company building

The Longaberger Company, which makes baskets, made a building in Newark that perfectly matches its brand. The building was closed in 2016, and it has largely sat idle since.

Plans for the property have included a hotel, a coworking space, and, most recently, a mixed-use development, but it still has an unclear path for the future.

OKLAHOMA: First Americans Museum

The First Americans Museum's 175,000-square-foot building in Oklahoma pays homage to the state's indigenous populations and their history. The design is inspired by the importance placed on the rising and setting sun by Native populations, with the Remembrance Walls being aligned with the sunrise.

The central half-dome is supported by 10 pillars of various stones, each representing a 10-mile stretch traveled by Native people during forced removal from their original homelands, according to the museum's website.

OREGON: The Portland Building

In 2009, Travel + Leisure famously called The Portland Building "one of the most hated buildings in America," and its reputation is split among architecture critics. But its shapes, strange geometric clashes of glass and stone, make it the weird building that Portland most deserves.

PENNSYLVANIA: Frank Lloyd Wright's Fallingwater

Frank Lloyd Wright's 1935 masterpiece Fallingwater remains Pennsylvania's greatest work of architecture. Water falls from each level of the building into the one below, perfectly integrating with the landscape.

RHODE ISLAND: The Breakers

Built as a summer residence for Cornelius Vanderbilt II, The Breakers mansion in Newport has 70 rooms across 138,300 square feet, making it one of the largest houses in the US and an icon of Gilded Age architecture.

SOUTH CAROLINA: The International African American Museum

In South Carolina, the International African American Museum stands on top of 18 13-foot pillars that keep the museum from touching the sacred ground on which it was built.

The museum is situated on the historic site of Gadsden's Wharf in Charleston's Cooper River, which was the last and most significant disembarkation point in North America for enslaved Africans during the transatlantic slave trade, per the US Civil Rights Trail website.

SOUTH DAKOTA: The Corn Palace

The walls of the Corn Palace in Mitchell are adorned with complex murals and art that's all been made out of, you guessed it, corn. The design changes every year.

TENNESSEE: Parthenon in Centennial Park

Built in 1897 for the Tennessee Centennial Exposition — and then reconstructed between 1921 and 1930 — the Parthenon in Centennial Park is a full-sized replica of the Parthenon in Athens, Greece. Today, it's open to the public as an art museum.

TEXAS: James Turrell's Twilight Epiphany skyspace

Designed by renowned artist James Turrell, the "Twilight Epiphany" Skyspace in Houston is a performance space that makes you feel as though you've entered another dimension.

UTAH: Natural History Museum of Utah

The Natural History Museum of Utah in Salt Lake City looks like it could have been carved out of the landscape. It was designed by Todd Schliemann of Ennead Architects.

VERMONT: The Old Round Church

The Old Round Church in Richmond is technically a 16-sided polygon, but it's still enough of a circle to lend credence to a rumor that it was built in that shape so that the Devil had no corners to hide in.

VIRGINIA: Dulles International Airport

If they're done wrong, airports can be the most insufferable place to spend a few hours. But we have to admire Virginia's Dulles International Airport, which almost looks like a futuristic aircraft itself.

WASHINGTON: Seattle Central Library

Forget the idea of a dusty old home for books nobody reads. The Seattle Central Library is a miracle of modern architecture.

WASHINGTON, DC: The United States Capitol

The United States Capitol is such a mainstay of nightly news and political pop culture that it's easy to take for granted. It's nice to step back once in a while and take in the grandeur and historical significance of this government building that reflects on America's complicated past.

Construction on the Capitol began in September 1793, and much of the structure was built by enslaved workers working alongside free Black and white laborers, per the White House Historical Association. In 2012, a marker was added to the Capitol Visitor Center commemorating the unpaid labor of enslaved people who built the nation's Capitol.

WEST VIRGINIA: The Palace of Gold

The Palace of Gold is a majestic memorial shrine located in the Hare Krishna community of New Vrindaban.

WISCONSIN: The Burke Brise Soleil

The most striking feature of the Milwaukee Art Museum is the Burke Brise Soleil, a towering sunscreen with a 217-foot wingspan. It folds and unfolds twice a day.

WYOMING: Smith Mansion

This wacky-looking building is in the middle of the remote Wapiti Valley. In 1971, architect Francis Lee Smith started building the structure by hand as his and his family's home. After completing the first floor in 1973, he could not stop building. He died after falling from one of the balconies in 1992.

• As a Canadian, I dreamed of living in Europe — and then, I finally got the chance to move there.
• There were parts of my new life I loved, but I missed Canada more than I expected.
• After five years, I moved back to Canada with a new appreciation for my home.

I first fell in love with the idea of Europe when I was 14.

My mom and I went on a trip to Russia to visit relatives, and Moscow won me over with its grand boulevards and trendy cafés. We also stopped in London, where we explored the city's central neighborhoods and shopped in stores I'd only read about in fashion magazines back home.

I was amazed by everything. I was convinced Europe was better — more aesthetically pleasing, more interesting — than my hometown of Vancouver, and vowed to go back as often as I could.

By my early 20s, I was traveling to Europe almost every summer. My sister had moved to France, so I had a great excuse to visit: I'd stay with her in Paris and later Toulouse, and I'd also check out other destinations like Spain and Italy when I could.

I became more enamored with the continent with each trip. Like so many North Americans, I considered it somewhat of a utopia where the overall lifestyle is healthier, the food is more delicious, and everything is more beautiful.

Love gave me the opportunity to live in Europe

In 2018, at age 26, I met and fell in love with a Brit who was living in Vancouver. When his Canadian working-holiday visa expired, we started a long-distance relationship — and I applied for a British visa so we could be together.

After years of romanticizing the continent on vacations, my dream was finally coming true. I moved to Birmingham and got a UK-based job.

My first year there was great. I loved being surrounded by historic architecture, feeling comfortable dressing up in fancier clothes, and knowing that countries like Spain, Italy, and Greece were just a quick flight away.

But eventually, the novelty started wearing off. Things I initially found so charming became mundane after a few years. The old buildings blurred into the background of my daily commute, and I never quite adjusted to certain cultural differences, like the Brits' less direct communication style.

I also started to miss the things I took for granted back home, like easy access to the ocean and mountains. Back in Vancouver, I used to spend weekends at the beach or hiking, and though these activities were possible in the UK, they were more difficult from my inland location.

Plus, although some things were more affordable — like groceries — others, like transportation fees, weren't. I was also getting paid a lower salary for the same job I was doing back home.

Even the travel benefits weren't as cut-and-dried as I'd expected. Yes, I was close to the rest of Europe, but farther from plenty of other destinations. In Vancouver, I could easily hop on a flight to Mexico to escape the winter blues.

My husband and I traveled to the Canary Islands a few times from the UK, and they were stunning — but in my opinion, they just couldn't compare to the soft white sand and warm azure waters of the Riviera Maya.

I realized I missed my life in Canada

In 2021, I visited Canada for the first time since moving, and started to see everything from a different perspective. I had a newfound appreciation for the rugged natural beauty around me and the laidback coastal lifestyle.

Once I got back to the UK, I started to realize just how much my Pacific Northwest upbringing had influenced my lifestyle preferences. I realized I'd rather be surrounded by the ocean, mountains, and forests than historic buildings.

As someone with a multicultural background, I also felt homesick for my Canadian hometown's diversity. I really felt like my community back home was shaped by immigrants, and cultural traditions there felt less uniform.

After our second trip back to Canada in 2022, my husband started to sense just how homesick I was. We agreed to move back the following year — though we chose to go to nearby Victoria instead of Vancouver, as we preferred the more relaxed vibe of a smaller city.

I'm glad we left, but I have no regrets

We've now been back in Canada for just over three years, and it feels like the perfect place for us right now.

Despite everything, I don't regret my move to the UK. I fulfilled my adolescent dream, and I know that if I hadn't taken the opportunity, I'd have always wondered what my life could have been like there.

Those five years also gave me a better appreciation for where I am now. Sure, there are things I miss about living in the UK, like the multitude of dog-friendly pubs and British chocolate. But as someone who prefers a more nature-oriented life, I know Southwest British Columbia is the right home for me.

Still, I'll never say no to another trip back across the pond.

• As a luxury real-estate agent, I tell buyers that a high price tag doesn't mean a sound investment.
• A beautiful renovation with signs of low-quality workmanship is an immediate red flag for me.
• I also pay close attention to a home's location and how long it's been on the market.

As a real-estate agent who works with buyers looking for luxury homes, I know how easy it is to get swept up in a beautiful property.

But after nearly three years in the industry, I like to remind my clients that a higher price tag doesn't automatically make a house a better investment — or mean there aren't problems hiding beneath the surface.

Some of the biggest concerns I notice aren't necessarily the things that stand out during a first showing. They're often in the details — like the quality behind the renovation, the home's location, and its history on the market.

These are the five red flags I always recommend my clients watch for before making an offer.

A pretty renovation doesn't mean it's a quality renovation.

A home may look spectacular online, but sometimes, once you walk through the door and look under the hood, it isn't what it appeared to be in the listing photos. I jokingly call it "lipstick on a pig."

Before making an offer, buyers should understand what they're actually getting, beyond gorgeous photos and expensive-looking finishes.

I like to look more closely at things like the cabinetry and hardware, flooring, countertops, stonework, fixtures, and overall quality of workmanship.

One of the easiest places to spot a lower-quality renovation is the cabinetry — specifically, whether the joints are properly fitted, the drawers glide smoothly, and the cabinet doors align. I also look out for things like uneven tilework, inconsistent grout lines, poorly installed flooring, and gaps around the cabinets or trim.

To me, the biggest concern is whether the renovation will hold up over time. If the materials and workmanship aren't up to par, buyers could end up repairing or replacing finishes far sooner than expected.

When you're paying for a luxury home, you want to know you're investing in quality that will last, not just an aesthetic that looks good in listing photos.

Regardless of how beautiful the home is, location is crucial.

Everyone has heard the term "location, location, location," and there's a reason for that. Almost anything about a home can be renovated or changed — its location can't.

I always tell buyers not to overlook things like road noise, backing to a busy street, an undesirable lot position, or other location factors simply because they love the house.

Those things may not bother you personally, but they could narrow your buyer pool significantly when it comes time to sell.

It's concerning when a house has been on the market for many days.

Seeing a high days-on-market number — the amount of time the property has been actively listed — isn't inherently detrimental, but it's important to understand why a house hasn't been able to sell.

A question I often get from clients is, "How many days on market is considered too many?" The reality is that there isn't a single magic number, as it depends on the area, the specific neighborhood, and the price point.

Just because a home has been on the market for an extended period doesn't necessarily mean there is something wrong with the property. It could be road noise, a less desirable location, or simply a matter of pricing. However, I've seen instances where issues were uncovered during inspections, causing buyers to walk away.

Regardless of the reason, I always look at the listing history, previous price reductions, and comparable sales in the area to get a better picture of what's going on.

I'm also not afraid to ask the seller's agent point-blank what the issue has been. All of that information helps me decide how my clients and I should approach and structure an offer.

A luxury price tag doesn't mean a home is problem-free.

Even a picture-perfect home listed for millions of dollars can have an aging HVAC system, roof issues, water damage, plumbing concerns, or other costly problems that aren't obvious during a showing.

That's why inspections are so important. If an inspection reveals that an HVAC system needs to be replaced, that's a significant expense the buyer may not have anticipated when making their original offer.

I always remind my clients that the inspection period is still very much a negotiation period. The key is knowing which issues are worth negotiating, and being strategic about what you ask for.

What a seller spent isn't necessarily what an improvement is worth.

If a listing agent tells me their seller put $300,000 into a home's renovation, that doesn't automatically mean it's worth $300,000 more.

A seller may have spent a significant amount on finishes or design choices they personally loved, but that doesn't necessarily mean the next buyer will place the same value on them.

I think it's important for buyers to separate what someone spent on a home from what the market supports.

High-quality improvements absolutely matter, but ultimately, I don't think a buyer should pay a premium simply because a seller spent a lot of money.

• My partner lives in a spacious house in rural Colorado, and I live in a condo in Boulder.
• We haven't found a place that fits both of our needs yet, so we're content living 45 minutes apart.
• There are challenges, but we enjoy spending lots of time at each other's homes.

Every weekend, my partner makes the best breakfast: over-medium eggs, handmade tortillas, and fresh hash browns.

We often eat outside thanks to Colorado's bright, sunny days, then we'll walk around the lake, watch some football, and spend the evening roasting marshmallows over the fire pit.

Then, when Sunday night arrives, I get in my car and drive the 45 minutes back to my dream condo to get ready for the week ahead.

My partner and I met at work 13 years ago, and we intend to spend the rest of our lives together, but we still live apart. We know each other's rhythms, quirks, and needs, and have no secrets, just separate addresses.

I often joke that we're in a "middle-distance" relationship. At least we're in the same state, but it's also not always easy or convenient to drop by for dinner.

Living apart lets us each keep a home we love

Both of us are divorced, and we both love the houses we have.

My partner lives in rural northeastern Colorado and bought his home after his divorce. It's bigger than mine, with a huge yard and a custom-designed patio built for entertaining.

His neighborhood isn't exactly walkable, but he's originally from a small town in Texas, so he doesn't mind driving longer distances to get to places he wants to go.

Meanwhile, after my divorce, I moved back into the Boulder condo I had been renting out while married. My unit is smaller than my partner's, but I love its mountain views and proximity to all my favorite places, like my go-to local bakery.

It needed a lot of work when I moved back in, but I invested in new paint and flooring to really make it mine again.

I want to stay close to Boulder, and he wants a big house. The tight, expensive housing market has made it tough to find a new place we both love.

Though we've toured many houses together over the last six months, we haven't been impressed by any of them enough to leave the places we've already made our own.

Our setup isn't as tough as people think

One thing that has made this arrangement easier is that we're used to living out of our suitcases. I'm a professional travel writer, and he works for a company based on the East Coast. We also love to explore new places together whenever we can.

When we are both home in Colorado, we've found a routine that has worked pretty well for us. My partner often spends some weeknights here, where we're close to restaurants, friends, walkable downtown Boulder, and other things to do after work.

Then, I'll go up to his house for quiet, relaxed weekends, and to watch my favorite team on the 100-inch screen (go Raiders!). We also tend to entertain at his bigger house.

Both of us get bored easily, so having a change of scenery and routine keeps life feeling fresh. My 14-year-old pug has adapted, too, and travels with me between places.

To make things easier, I've bought duplicates of staples like deodorant and an electric toothbrush, so I'm not schlepping them (or forgetting them!) every weekend.

That said, there are challenging things about our setup. Packing up every few days can be a hassle, and it can be stressful to land at the airport and decide which house to go to, especially when I miss both my partner and the feeling of being "home."

We always make an effort to overcommunicate our plans and extend understanding whenever one of us just needs to get home to do a load of laundry.

We'll find our dream home eventually

Every day, I'm scrolling listings that meet both our picky criteria and calling up agents for showings, but so far, we haven't loved anything as much as our current homes.

It sounds frustrating, but we both think this is a pretty good problem to have: It gives us more leverage in the homebuying process and means we don't have to settle for something that is only half-right or makes just one of us happy.

We're confident that we'll find a home that fits us both, but in the meantime, navigating the middle-distance has only made our relationship stronger.

• After my husband lost his job, we moved across the country and into my mom's one-bedroom apartment.
• My husband, toddler, and I live in her living room, and it's not always easy sharing a small space.
• However, the arrangement has come with lots of benefits and we've been able to get back on our feet.

7:30 p.m. marks the start of my son's bedtime routine.

First, I pull out our pillows and bedding from under the chaise sofa bed, which I share with my son.

Once our makeshift bed is set, I close the curtains separating it from the rest of the one-bedroom apartment. The tiny living room becomes our private oasis.

I can almost forget we're at my mom's place, sleeping on a convertible sofa she'd originally bought for our annual visits, while my 6-foot-3 husband sleeps on his own air mattress on the ground right next to us.

After my husband lost his job, moving in with my mom seemed like the right decision

Squeezing into my mom's small Boston apartment was never the plan.

Right after I graduated from college, I had moved to California to chase my Hollywood dreams of becoming an actor. During my two decades of living on the West Coast, I met my husband, got married, and became a stay-at-home mom.

However, our lives were turned upside down in 2025 when my husband lost his job. For the first time, we really started thinking about moving to Boston, where I had grown up and my family still lived.

I figured it would give us more flexibility with childcare, and a fresh start in a new city might be what we needed.

When I called my mom to tell her about our plans, she was thrilled. She'd been telling us to move to Boston for years, and said we could stay with her in her one-bedroom apartment until we found a new place.

So, we booked one-way tickets to Logan Airport and moved in with my mom.

It's been challenging for all of us to share a one-bedroom apartment

Arriving in Boston was exciting, but the transition to sharing a one-bedroom apartment was trying — we took over the entire living room. The room became cluttered, with our clothes and suitcases spilling into the hallway.

My mom expressed concern about the mess, so we rented a nearby storage unit for most of our belongings. Still, though, the things we need daily seem to take up a lot of space.

Sharing a one-bedroom apartment required an adjustment not just for us, but for her too.

For example, my son's early bedtime closes the living room off to my mom's nightly TV watching. Honestly, it still feels awkward to kick my mom out of her own living room because I have to put my toddler to sleep.

Plus, my mom is an early riser, often getting up at 6:30 a.m. to clean and run errands.

I can hear the sounds of domestic life filtering through the curtains that separate our "room" from the rest of the home. Cupboards opening, dishes being put away, and the smell of morning coffee lingering in the air like a wake-up call.

When tension rises because of our conflicting schedules and differing routines, I've learned to take a breather and step outside with my son to go for a walk or a drive. It often helps to ease the tension and remember this arrangement is only temporary.

However, it's also nice having my mom's support, and my son has gotten to know his abuela in ways that wouldn't have been possible from across the country. She watches him while I take a shower and go to in-person or Zoom job interviews.

Every night, while I'm getting the living room ready for bedtime, he goes into her room and cuddles up next to her while she watches TV.

Even though things aren't perfect, the arrangement is worth it

At first, being back at my mom's house after so many years of independence honestly made me feel like I somehow failed at life. By 40, I thought I'd have a successful career and a home of my own.

Now, though, it's been seven months since we arrived in Boston, and honestly? We're thriving. My husband found work, my son loves his preschool, and I've been able to focus on my career aspirations.

What I've learned through this whole process is that it's OK to lean on family when necessary, and even though we're still hoping to get our own place sooner rather than later, I know moving back to Boston was the right decision for me and my family.

• Home sales may be sluggish, but the luxury segment of the market is thriving.
• Sotheby's International Realty highlighted four things motivating luxury homebuyers in 2026.
• Some are buying homes in Milan, while others are moving to San Francisco to take part in the AI boom.

While many Americans are sitting on the sidelines, waiting for the real-estate market to become more affordable, ultrawealthy buyers are still snapping up homes.

Sotheby's International Realty's 2026 Mid-Year luxury outlook survey found that 55% of its real-estate affiliated professionals worldwide who specialize in properties priced at $10 million and above saw an increase in luxury homebuyers in their local markets over the previous 12 months. Respondents also said they expect strong demand for the remainder of 2026.

"The affluent remain engaged and confident in the luxury housing market. They are deliberate but not deterred," Philip A. White Jr., president and CEO of Sotheby's International Realty, said in the brokerage's report.

Here are four trends gaining traction among ultrawealthy homebuyers according to Sotheby's report, from a revival in San Francisco's real estate market to a growing demand for homes that allow buyers to age in place.

Luxury buyers want a home where they can age in place

Americans are increasingly focusing on health and wellness, transforming not only how they live but also what they want in their homes.

Sotheby's International Realty found that luxury buyers — many of whom already invest in products and routines that help them stay healthy — are less likely to downsize or move into senior housing. Instead, they are opting to buy homes that better allow them to age in place.

Sotheby's International Realty's survey shows that nearly 40% of real estate professionals said aging in place is a growing priority among homebuyers.

"Increasing life expectancy, coupled with affluent homebuyers' desire to 'age in place,' is reshaping everything from home design and location choice to how inventory circulates in prime real estate markets," Tammy Fahmi, senior vice president of global servicing and strategy at Sotheby's International Realty, said in the report.

For luxury buyers, a home's ability to support a high quality of life is a top priority. Sotheby's found that they want spa-like amenities, including saunas, cold plunges, and red-light therapy; advanced air and water filtration, and easy access to the outdoors through nearby hiking or walking trails. Those who can afford it are also interested in integrated health-monitoring technology or in-home staff.

2. Miami remains a hot spot for ultrawealthy homebuyers

While home sales are still down across the country, Sotheby's International Realty's report suggests that the luxury end of the real-estate market is doing well.

"There's a little more inventory that has helped keep that property market moving," Lawrence Yun, chief economist and senior vice president of research at the National Association of Realtors, said in Sotheby's report. "The stock market has helped, plus the ability of upper-end homebuyers to pay with cash and not be concerned about mortgage rates."

In the US, several markets continue to attract luxury buyers, especially Miami. In recent years, celebrities and billionaires, including Jeff Bezos and Mark Zuckerberg, have purchased multimillion-dollar homes in the Miami area.

"The ultra-luxury property market in Miami is on particularly solid ground," Yun said. "They had a little oversupply, but with their infrastructure development and new luxury condominium construction, it's becoming an even bigger city."

3. Ultrawealthy buyers want to live where their money goes further.

Global uncertainty is prompting many people to reconsider both where they invest their money and where they live. For ultra-high net worth individuals, that often means looking to cities that offer stability and greater value.

Among those places, Milan is becoming an increasingly attractive destination for luxury homebuyers, according to a Sotheby's report.

Milan's appeal is also tied to Italy's tax incentives and residency-by-investment program, which provides access to the Schengen Area, which includes countries such as the Netherlands, Spain, Sweden, Portugal, and Greece.

"That has attracted a lot of ultra-high-net-worth individuals," Diletta Giorgolo, a global real estate advisor at Italy Sotheby's International Realty, said in the report. "More people were coming to Italy for not only residency, but their fiscal regime. We were always used to international buyers, but they came for second homes. The big difference is that now many are buying primary homes."

4. AI is breathing new life into the Bay Area and reviving its real estate market

As the AI industry booms in the Bay Area, younger affluent buyers who left for cities like New York and Los Angeles are being drawn back by job opportunities.

"San Francisco thrives on innovation and new technology, and now the AI boom is real," Alex Hachiya, a San Francisco-based senior global real estate advisor at Sotheby's International Realty, said in Sotheby's report. "Wealth flooded back into the city in 2025, and we saw 84% more sales of homes priced at $7.5 million and up that year, compared to 2024."

Hachiya said it is typical for younger luxury buyers, many of whom work in tech, are entrepreneurs, or come from family wealth, to buy homes in San Francisco before later purchasing a second property in the suburbs, where they plan to raise their children.

He added that when it comes to homes, these buyers want move-in-ready homes with flexible living spaces and walkable neighborhoods.

• I've been an interior designer for years, and I believe some design "rules" are worth breaking.
• A room not working doesn't mean you need to make it bigger or completely remodel it.
• Don't avoid using furniture that's "too nice," or do open shelving just because it's in magazines.

In my years working in interior design, I've had many clients approach me looking for definitive "rules" for decorating their homes.

They want to know how to make their home look good and function better, assuming there is a set of guidelines to help them get there.

Certainly, there are building codes, safety requirements, and circulation considerations that must be met. However, much of what we think of as design and decorating is guided by rules of thumb, best practices, and even cultural assumptions.

The longer I practice design — over 20 years now — the more I learn that there are very few set rules to follow. Although some can be a good starting place, they often overlook the people who actually live in the space we're designing.

Here are a few design "rules" I think are worth breaking and why.

If you're remodeling your kitchen, you definitely need some open shelving.

Open any shelter magazine, and you will likely see open shelving as a prominent kitchen feature.

Open shelving is beautiful, often breaking up a wall of cabinetry, making a kitchen feel lighter and more open while creating a place to display dishes, glassware, cookbooks, or other collected personal effects.

Although I, too, am drawn to open shelves, I question whether it's the right choice for every client. Those beautifully styled shelves require you to decide what stays visible, keep some degree of order, and deal with more dust and kitchen grime.

For some people, that's no problem — or even enjoyable. For others, it's one more thing to maintain.

Before my clients make this design choice, we talk through what would actually live on those shelves and whether they want the responsibility of keeping them looking the way they imagine.

After all, a trend can show you a new possibility, but it can't tell you whether that possibility fits your life.

Your interior style should match your home's architecture.

I have many clients who make this assumption: If my home has a traditional architectural character, my new kitchen or bathroom must also have more traditional elements — think Shaker cabinetry, crown molding, and bronzy hardware.

Although I agree that architectural continuity can create cohesion, the architecture of your home is context, not a mandate.

When someone doesn't identify with their home's traditional character, I think it's important to honor the individual. I have seen many contemporary interiors set within traditional homes, and the juxtaposition can be breathtaking.

If your home isn't working, you need more space.

When a space feels cramped or isn't functioning well, I often see clients immediately assume they must add square footage.

Sometimes an addition is the right answer, but often the problem lies in how the existing space is being used.

For example, I had a client who was considering an addition to their kitchen. As we studied the existing space together, it became clear that the kitchen already had plenty of room, but the current layout wasn't making good use of it.

Rather than expanding the footprint of their home, we focused on reorganizing the space they already have so it functions better for them.

Before assuming more space is needed, identify where the friction is coming from: difficulty moving through a room, belongings that pile up in unwanted places, or things stored far from where they're used.

It's impossible to solve a problem you don't fully understand.

Some furniture is too nice for everyday use.

If you've ever invested in beautiful or expensive furniture, you may have worried about how you'll protect it from getting "ruined" by daily life.

But here's the rub (pun intended): When protecting furniture starts interfering with actually living in your home, we may have a problem.

Think about the white sofa featured in the aspirational home decor imagery in magazines or on social media. It's beautiful. It's pristine.

However, every Friday night, it needs to be covered with a blanket before anyone settles in to watch TV with a glass of red wine and a piece of chocolate. At some point, the needs of the furniture began to take priority over those of the person using it.

Here is the truth: Furniture is meant to be used, and a home is meant to be lived in.

Your kitchen trash can should be next to the sink.

This is a pretty standard kitchen-planning rule of thumb: Put waste collection close to the area where food prep and cleanup happen.

However, this is based on an assumption about how people use their kitchens. Sometimes, there are better layouts depending on your situation.

For example, many of my clients compost most food scraps. One such client keeps a small compost container on her counter, which is convenient during food prep and clean-up. Between composting and recycling, her regular landfill garbage gets very little use.

Once we uncovered how little this client uses the conventional trash can in her kitchen, we decided to relocate it elsewhere, freeing up valuable cabinet space near the sink and dishwasher.

This may not follow the design "rule," but it's a more practical arrangement for her space.

Empty spaces should be filled.

Sometimes an empty wall, shelf, or corner of a room can make a space feel unfinished, and our natural inclination is to fill it.

However, is empty space actually a problem that needs to be solved? No … at least not immediately.

I often encourage my clients to experiment with leaving something empty as part of the design process. It gives you an opportunity to live with the space and discover what — if anything — you actually need there.

You may discover a function you hadn't anticipated, eventually find something you genuinely want there, or realize that the room works better without anything at all.

If a room isn't working, it needs a makeover.

If a space feels unfinished, disjointed, or just "off," we often believe it needs a substantial change — new furniture, different finishes, or even a remodel.

And with so many dramatic reveals and before-and-afters, it's no wonder we think meaningful improvements require meaningful (and expensive!) interventions.

Rather than replacing everything, sometimes small, thoughtful changes can alter how a whole space feels.

For example, I had a client whose guest bathroom was remodeled several years ago. The materials, fixtures, and finishes were beautiful, but they didn't quite come together as a whole.

Rather than replacing them, we added a single wall of peel-and-stick wallpaper, a DIY project the client could tackle over a weekend. It connected what was already there and made the room feel cohesive.

Your interior designer has better taste than you.

Because an interior designer has professional expertise and experience, homeowners assume their aesthetic judgment is more valid — or that the designer has the "right" design answer, and they do not.

Designers understand proportion, scale, color, materials, and composition, but clients know more than they give themselves credit for. They notice when a color feels wrong, have strong reactions to particular materials or furnishings, and can identify what they prefer even if they don't have the design vocabulary to explain why.

Although a designer can help you understand those preferences and translate them into a cohesive space, your own sense of what feels right should be part of the design process.

After all, expertise isn't about applying rules indiscriminately — it's about knowing when they serve the person in front of you and when they don't.

I have a saying in my practice: "You do you!" You are the expert in how you live, what you like, and what makes you feel at home.

• My husband and I moved from the US to the Netherlands without seeing our new apartment in person.
• We encountered lots of surprises, like the lengthy Dutch application process.
• Although we love our apartment, we've had to get used to a few cultural differences.

After living as digital nomads for nearly two years, my husband and I decided to move from the US to the Netherlands.

We'd visited several times and fell in love with the walkability and bike culture. Plus, I have a connection to the country, since my great-grandparents were Dutch.

With the help of a real-estate agent, we found an apartment remotely from the US, signing a yearlong lease in the city of Utrecht before ever setting foot in the home.

We encountered some surprises while looking for an apartment

Since the process of finding an apartment abroad can often take months, we chose to search remotely from the US. To make things easier, we hired a Dutch real-estate agent with local connections who could view apartments for us in person.

The prep work was much more intense than I was used to. In the US, I've leased apartments in three different states, and the extent of the application typically included filling out a basic form and sometimes completing a background check.

That wasn't going to cut it in the Netherlands.

Our agent gave us a long list of materials to prepare, from 12 months of bank statements and links to our LinkedIn profiles, to a "get to know us" letter, which included our hobbies and photos of us. Then she went looking.

Rentals often get snatched up within a few hours or days, so my husband and I were regularly waking up at 4 a.m. in Colorado to read our agent's emails about the new listings each day.

When we finally found one that checked all our boxes, we asked her to schedule a walkthrough. Luckily, she recorded a video for us to review, so we didn't need to wake up early for this part of the process.

It was during the walkthrough, however, that we learned Dutch apartment listings aren't as detailed as the ones we were used to in the US. When our agent arrived, we discovered the listing had omitted several important pieces of information.

For example, there was a fully fenced-in back garden, complete with a shed, picnic table, and blackberry and rose bushes. The kitchen had a dishwasher. And there was a washing machine hidden away behind a cabinet door — and a dryer (which is not as common in Europe).

Score, right? So we jumped at the opportunity, put in our bid, and jumped for joy when our offer was accepted.

Despite a few setbacks, we fell in love with our apartment

We arrived in the Netherlands a few weeks later, traveling directly from the airport to our rental. When we unlocked the door for the first time, hoping we'd fall in love with our new home, it was … freezing.

Turns out, the heat had stopped working, and the rental company couldn't send someone to fix it until the next day. So, we spent our first night in the Netherlands at a hotel.

Thankfully, the heat was fixed the following day, and then we could start unpacking. This is when we began to notice some of the more nuanced differences of a Dutch house compared to an American one.

The first thing to get used to? The alarmingly steep stairs (a hallmark of skinny, tall Dutch houses) which made moving furniture up to our second-floor office feel like a Herculean feat.

We also learned to accept moths and gnats as houseguests, since Dutch windows don't typically have screens. However, with no air conditioning and a 100-year-old house that was built to retain heat, we definitely want to keep those windows open.

Overall, aside from a few stowaway insects and some hot days, we've been very fortunate with our rental. I particularly love the neighborhood and how we can walk to a grocery store, bakery, or park within five minutes.

The biggest lessons have come from being part of a Dutch neighborhood

Although finding our rental was a whirlwind process, I've found the most interesting parts of living here have come from the cultural differences between American and Dutch neighborhoods.

For example, shortly after arriving, our neighbor invited us to the neighborhood WhatsApp group. If you need to borrow a drill or lose your cat, you send a message to the group.

It's very active, and joining the group helped me feel like I was part of a community before knowing anyone here. Although I've heard of similar groups in the US, I've never been invited to join one.

Ordering packages is also very different. Back in the States, packages would be left by my door. In the Netherlands, however, they aren't left unattended.

Instead, the delivery driver will start ringing the neighbors' doorbells until someone is home. Then, they'll leave a digital note about which house has your package.

One place I didn't expect to feel such a contrast is the sidewalk. On sunny days, my Dutch neighbors bring out their dining room chairs, park them on the bricks outside their front door, and enjoy a cold drink. Sometimes, it'll feel like an impromptu block party — and I couldn't be happier to join in the festivities.

After leasing an apartment across the world, sight unseen, would I do it again? I sure would — especially if I could hire a real-estate agent to check out the home in person.

The quirks of our apartment and neighborhood are all part of the experience of living abroad, and although I may not have expected them, I've now grown attached to these cultural differences.

• Hayley and Mo Molina built a house on Hayley's parents' 400-acre family ranch in Oklahoma.
• Now they live steps away from Hayley's parents, grandparents, and brother and sister-in-law.
• They both enjoy spending time with the family, and everyone has grown closer.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Hayley and Mo Molina, 30 and 49, a married couple who live on a 400-acre ranch in Claremore, Oklahoma. Hayley's parents bought the ranch in 2021, and now four generations of family live there. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

Hayley: I was born in Bluffton, Indiana. Then my family moved to Oklahoma when I was three.

We always lived in town, and my family knew nothing about ranching. They were golfers; I didn't listen to country music until I was in high school — we were city people. But then my parents sold their house and were looking for something new, something different.

They were actually looking for something smaller and with not as much land to take care of, but we started talking about a family compound, found Hook Ranch, and just jumped in headfirst.

When my parents first found the property, it was about 170 acres, give or take, and they just kept buying more land and growing it bigger and bigger until it landed on what it is now.

When my parents were talking about doing this, the future goal was for me to be out here. For me, it wasn't the goal right away. I wanted that in the future, but I didn't know what the future looked like for me.

My grandparents ended up moving out here and living in the barn, where they live now, because I wasn't planning on moving out there or building anytime soon.

They were like, "OK, well we'll just take your spot then."

Then Mo and I met, and honestly, I don't even know if we ever had the conversation about living out here.

Mo: We really didn't bring it up early on. And when we first thought about it, I was like, "There's no way I'm living out there with all them family. There's no way." Not because I didn't like them; it just wasn't in the plan.

But then, as I got to know them, loved them, and we hung out with them almost every weekend, we were like, "Wait a minute, we love it out here."

I proposed out here, and after that, it took off from there. And then it was normal.

It's not weird to be living this close to my family

Hayley: On the property, there's us, my parents, my mom's parents, and then my brother and sister-in-law and their two daughters.

My family's always been so close. We're the type of people who always hung out on the weekends. We always went to my parents' house Friday night. It was so normal to be so close and always together.

Mo: For me, it was just my mom and me growing up, and we lived in the city, but I'm a country boy. I knew I always wanted to be out in the country. But it looked like I was going to be in the city the whole time. But with Hayley being close to her family, it all came together.

Hayley: We actually moved in with my parents first. We sold my house in March 2025, and then moved in with my parents.

Mo: We lived there while we were building our house.

Hayley: We got married in September, moved in with my parents in March, and lived there for seven months. We moved into our house in October of 2025.

Our house is only about 100 yards away from the barn, which is where my parents and grandparents live.

My brother and sister-in-law are about 200 yards away from the barn — it's like a seven-minute walk. It's literally a one-minute walk from my house to my parents' house.

Mo: I didn't know if there were going to be any benefits to living that close or not, especially when my father-in-law built a trail that goes right from the barn to our house.

It's kind of cliché, but if we don't have any eggs, we can literally walk down there.

Hayley: But honestly, we have so much privacy. You wouldn't think that, but I can't even see my parents' house or my brother's house from my house.

We can be in the backyard, the front yard, and I have no idea what's going on at their houses ever.

We can go weeks without seeing anybody. There's a lot of privacy out here because everybody respects each other's privacy.

Mo: It is weird knowing that we're this close and then a couple weeks go by, and I'm like, "Man, I haven't seen anybody," or "We haven't gone down there," and they're 100 steps away.

We've built closer relationships by living on the same property

Mo: When we first started dating, she was always hanging out with her parents almost every weekend, and I was living my single life, and I was hanging out with my buddies, and we would go out almost every weekend.

Hayley: Friday nights, we know what my parents are doing, because they do the same thing pretty much every Friday night.

So if we don't have anything to do, we are just going to go join them. Sometimes I just want to hang out with people, but I don't want to have to drive anywhere, and I don't want to have to get ready. So we'll have a game night at the barn with the whole family: my grandparents, us, my parents, and my brother and his family.

Mo: Hayley used to come and hang out with my friends, and then it didn't take very long before I went over to her family's place and hung out with them. I was like, "Man, this is kind of cool." They're awesome to hang out with.

At first, I was like, "I'm not hanging out with your parents. This is not a cool Friday night." In less than a month, I would say we were literally hanging out every weekend with her parents.

Hayley: I think we all have gotten so much closer. I have learned so much about my grandparents and gotten closer with my grandma.

My grandma comes over to our house every Monday morning and washes our sheets for us. While the sheets are washing and drying, she cleans the floors for me, and while she's doing that, she and I chat.

That's been really nice because I get to connect with her whenever. Before, I couldn't really do that because we only saw them every once in a while. Now I can do that every week. And she goes to my brother's house and does their laundry on Tuesdays.

Mo: Getting to know her family more and seeing how they do things and what they like and what their everyday looks like has been a benefit.

Her family works so hard. Her mom is the hardest worker on the ranch, and I would've never known that when I met her.

Her parents run a business, and her dad is constantly not in the house — except to watch college football.

I've learned so much from him.

I think getting to know that part of her family was huge for me. That's what's different. If we lived where we lived before, I probably would've never learned, or wanted to learn, that. So that was big for me.

• During my senior year of college, my 24-year-old brother became my roommate.
• Living together seemed like a crazy idea, but he ended up becoming a safe space for me in the house.
• The experience brought us closer and made me less afraid of postgrad life.

Before heading out to the bar on our final day of junior year at the University of Maryland, I sat in my empty college apartment with my friends, laughing over a dumb sitcom while scrolling on our phones.

Half of our stuff was in boxes as we were preparing to move into our very own house for the next school year. We fantasized about the parties we would throw and the decorating we would do.

But then, two months later, everything was turned upside down when one friend backed out and moved to Wisconsin to pursue a new career path. We were scrambling to find a replacement, but luckily, we weren't the only ones looking for a roommate.

When I was talking to my mom about the situation, my 24-year-old brother, who was three years out of college, was on the other end of the phone. Turns out, he was trying to find a place to live after his arrangements in Baltimore — about 40 minutes from my school — changed at the last minute.

My mom listened to both her children in a state of panic and was able to solve both problems with the most cruel suggestion a college girl could ever hear. "Why don't you move in together?"

Sure, that's just how every girl wants to spend her senior year of college. It was my parents' dream and my own nightmare.

My brother and I are close, but this still seemed like a crazy idea. However, we'd already signed a lease and didn't want to cover the rent for our friend who moved away. So, my brother and I talked on the phone, toying with the idea, before meeting up for lunch and deciding to officially become roommates for the first time since high school.

Despite any hesitations, once the summer ended, we all moved into the house together.

Suddenly, my senior year of college looked less like a coming-of-age movie and more like an episode of "New Girl." Three college girls and my older brother, all under one roof.

My brother became an unexpected safe space for me

Whenever my brother and I told people we were living together, we got some crazy looks. There were a lot of questions for him about how he could live with a bunch of college girls and function as a full-time adult. There were also a lot of questions for me, a full-blown party girl, about whether I would feel uncomfortable living with my overprotective brother.

We were living different lives and were on completely different pages — or so we thought. Surprisingly, after moving in, there were moments when I was thankful my brother was there.

When I had a falling-out with my roommates around the second half of the school year, and tensions grew, my brother was there to have my back. The living room no longer felt like a safe space, so I would go to his room instead.

Then, six months into our living arrangement, I got news that one roommate had received a full-time job offer, while the other was accepted into graduate school. Meanwhile, I was a straight-A student with four different internships, who was going to be completely jobless.

It felt unfair and difficult to speak with my friends about my unemployment and fear of adulthood since they couldn't relate. So, in these moments, I ended up going to my brother, since he had gone through the same situation a few years back when he was finishing school.

As I learned more about his life, his perspective helped me navigate my own experiences — and brought us closer, too.

Fast-forward a couple of months, and my brother and I spent the majority of our time at home laughing on the couch, watching reality television, and talking about our weekday struggles. While I was struggling to find a job, my brother was struggling with his work as an elementary school teacher.

When I was complaining about guys, he was telling me about his dating failures. Sure, living together while navigating our respective romantic lives was occasionally awkward, but we did our best to keep our flings from crossing paths.

Before long, we were both spending our Sundays hungover on the couch, debriefing our weekends. Although my brother may not have found the same common ground with the other girls I was living with — who were practically strangers to him — we were closer than we've ever been.

Living with my brother made me less afraid of life after college

Spending this much time with my brother alleviated any fears I had of adulthood.

His day-to-day life wasn't too different from mine, but while I was attending classes as a student, he was leading them as a teacher. Although I had no plans to become an educator, he gave me advice on navigating the workforce and figuring out how to be a grown-up.

More than anything, he showed me that postgrad life could still be fun. I could go to the gym and blast my music, grab drinks with friends, and binge-watch my favorite shows. The difference was that life felt a little more elevated, with new opportunities to step outside my college bubble.

At the end of the day, he taught me that the problems we face after college are not so different from the ones we had in college. Whether someone is newly postgrad, graduated 10 years ago, or is still completing their studies, we are all figuring things out in our own way.

We now live in different cities with our significant others, but spending a year together created a bond that makes my brother feel more like my best friend than a sibling.

We still talk every day, and now we get to laugh with each other's partners about the realities of living with us. After all, we've both been there.