• 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.

• 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.

• Hilary Tang and her college friends bought an akiya in Hiroshima, Japan, for a little over $11,000.
• The group of friends spent months living at the property while renovating it.
• They plan to use it mostly for gatherings but are open to renting it out to cover yearly costs.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Hilary Tang, 23, a recent college graduate from Hong Kong who purchased a home in Hiroshima, Japan, with her college friends. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

I graduated from Minerva University in San Francisco last May.

I was planning to work at a startup in San Francisco, but I decided that I wanted to take a gap year. At Minerva, our cohort is pretty diverse, and I have quite a few friends from Japan. One of my friends had this concept: "There are these akiyas, but no one actually buys them."

I actually never saw any of those videos about akiyas before, but I did know about the 1 euro house in Italy thing. I didn't know there was a similar concept in Japan.

My friend was initially planning to buy a house with his high school friends, but they backed out very early on. After they backed out, he asked if we were interested in buying a house.

That was in June. We bought the house in late July, and then we got the keys on August 6.

At first, we were trying to recruit people, but no one really wanted to. We even tried to recruit outside our school. I tried asking people from Hong Kong, but no one wanted to go somewhere random and buy a house in Japan because there's quite a lot of risk.

From the initial six people who bought the house, five people are from my university.

Then two other people joined, because my friend's friends also came over after we started the renovation. They're from Japan and really liked the house, so they decided to chip in as well. So currently, we have eight people.

We always wanted to have eight people in the house — it's just easier if we have a bigger budget.

We wanted to buy and renovate the house for less than $20,000

After we assembled the people who decided to buy the house, we had an initial meeting to understand each person's motivations and expectations, because that would determine what kind of house we buy and how we want to treat it.

When we were talking about things we would want in the location, something that was common was that, firstly, we all preferred being in nature or easily accessible to nature. Within the group, most of them are Japanese and already live in Tokyo, Osaka, or another big city, so for them, they wanted to have a second house in a more rural area.

Secondly, we wanted somewhere that is easily accessible, even internationally. Another friend is planning to work in the US, and there's also a Korean member, so it's better if there's more motivation, or it's easier for us to actually go there if there's an international airport nearby.

And thirdly, we wanted somewhere with better weather and with lower earthquake and tsunami risk.

We ended up finding a house in Hiroshima.

The house itself was 1.8 million yen (or $11,371), but the price was negotiated because the house was initially listed on the website at 3 million yen.

We also had to pay the agent fee and other fees, so we spent about 2.3 million yen in total.

The house is around 315 square meters (or 3,390 square feet), and almost 500 square meters of land.

We have nine Japanese-style rooms, which are rooms with tatami flooring, and two Western-style rooms, which are rooms without tatami flooring.

Initially, we wanted to do the whole renovation within $4,000, but since we have more people chipping in, our budget expanded. We still haven't used up our original $20,000 budget. Just for the renovation, we've used around $1,262, as of start of October.

We hang out there once a month, but we're also thinking about renting it out

We've been staying in the house the entire time we've renovated it, and luckily the house was in better condition than we expected.

The timeline was so tight that we couldn't actually go there to see the house before we bought it. But the agent did a video tour, and we looked around, and it was quite nice.

We also talked to our neighbors, because the person who lived in the house passed away about five years ago, and then afterward it was left vacant. But before he passed away, the neighbors said how the previous owner was really diligent with cleaning stuff; that they always saw him cleaning, even toward the end of his life.

When we got there, we realized it was actually a lot more well-maintained than we thought, so we didn't have to do a very big renovation. At first, we thought we'd have to change all the tatami, or rebuild certain parts, or put down certain parts. But it turns out there hasn't been a super big expense that would require us to rebuild the entire thing.

We did paint and also repaired some curtains and lights because they weren't working. We added a fire alarm and air conditioning because they only had one or two aircons, and it gets really hot in Hiroshima during the summer and really cold in the winter. Those wooden houses don't insulate very well.

When we first got there in August, there were five of us. Then maybe for the first three days, there was always someone new coming, because there are a lot of friends who wanted to come here. So there are always visitors, and they also helped out because there's a lot going on — we even had friends' parents come over as well.

That's been my favorite part.

You see sides of people that you don't know. Everyone has some sort of expertise to bring. For example, some people are really good at painting. Our friend helped us paint the bathroom wall — he wanted to paint a Fuji mountain, but none of us really knew how to paint. So I'm really glad he came and helped us paint.

There's a girl who went to a lot of auctions growing up, so she specialized in artwork and helped us go through the things the previous owner left behind.

It would be nice to do Airbnb and learn about the process and to experience what it's like to manage an Airbnb. Maybe with the house on Airbnb we can cover at least the running costs every year.

Still, we want to prioritize us hanging out.

Every month we try to gather there, and so far we've been going consistently once a month.

We wanted to create a place we could always come back to whenever life gets a little overwhelming, where any of us could take a break, have some space to ourselves, and take time to process whatever was going on in life.

We see this house not as an investment, but as a shared place among us.

• I'm an Airbnb Superhost with an average rating of 4.9 stars from 90 guests.
• Everyone is buzzing about the new rules that limit the chores hosts can ask guests to complete.
• I support the change. Guests are paying to use a space, their last memory shouldn't be a checklist.

The internet has been buzzing about Airbnb's latest policy change over restrictions on what a host can — and cannot — ask a guest to do before they check out.

I've been renting my home in the Hudson Valley for five years, and have been a Superhost since 2023. Currently, I have 90 guest reviews with an average rating of 4.97. That's not an accident. It's something I work hard at.

Though the property management company I work with hasn't always loved it, I've never been big on requiring guests to follow a strict cleanup policy. While we did ask for dishes to be done at one time, that hasn't been part of my guest instructions since 2025. For me, the most important tasks are to turn off the lights and return the key to the lockbox before guests leave. Beyond that, I don't expect much else, though I know that hasn't been the norm for some Airbnb users.

Guests are still guests

Somehow, the B&B part of the nomenclature appears to have gotten lost. I've seen users who fear bad reviews if a place isn't meticulously cleaned, voicing their concerns on Reddit and Facebook. For me, that's not something I think someone should have to worry about when they're paying to use a space.

While there are legitimate stories of guests destroying a place or leaving it in shambles, this hasn't been my experience. I believe the majority are good guests.

There is still a cleanliness rating for hosts to fill out about guests, so I imagine that even without imposed rules, most will do the dishes anyway. Leaving a bag of trash inside the house shouldn't result in a host docking a star or two from their review. It should be part of the stay, especially since hosts can set a cleaning fee for their property upfront.

I am glad the company has intervened on behalf of the guests. They are staying at a vacation rental, not a work exchange.

Hosts like me can have little time between bookings

I understand the rationale behind hosts who have lots of rules. There is often a small window between turnovers, and hosts want to make sure they have enough time to wash and dry everything before the next guests arrive.

It's something I worry about, too. That's why I keep extra linens and dishes on hand. They're there to use just in case there isn't enough time to complete everything between the bookings.

At one point, my property manager and I disagreed over what we wanted guests to do. I felt as if he was taking it personally if someone left dirty dishes in the sink or didn't sweep up. With this rule change, we'll no longer be at odds, and I'm glad.

Most guests have been respectful of the space

I am fortunate. I have rarely had a guest be anything less than tidy, and I have also had hardworking cleaners who have taken linens home to wash because turnovers have been so tight.

None of my guests have complained about my rules directly to me or in the comments they've left online about my property. I intend to keep it that way.

I host because I enjoy it

Everyone has their own reasons for getting into this business. For some, it is purely fiscal, but for me, it has been personal. This is my house, and I take tremendous pride in it and the surrounding area. I vet each potential guest personally and hand-pick a welcome gift for them. I want them to have a lovely stay, leave with fond memories, and maybe even a desire to return one day.

The last thing I want a guest to do is worry about a lengthy checklist of tasks before leaving. I don't want that to be their last memory of their stay.

Soon, a mother and daughter will be staying at my property for the third year in a row. In my emails to them, I wished them a safe journey and said we would take care of the rest — and I meant it.

Retirement didn't exactly mean slowing down for Bonnie and Hunter Moore.

The Moores, both 71, have lived near the Vanderbilt campus in Nashville for over 40 years. They bought their home in 1983, raising their two children and building their careers. Bonnie was a proofreader, while Hunter worked in the music industry.

When they retired in 2019, they were excited to have more time for their passions. For Hunter, that includes reading, playing the piano, working on model trains, and independent study (he's currently working on a dissertation for fun). Bonnie loves entertaining her friends — especially in her "Not Your Mother's Bible Study" group — hosting her grandsons, and traveling.

By 2023, though, it was clear their home base wasn't set up to help them thrive in retirement, as their bedroom, office, and music studio were all on the second floor. After caring for their own aging parents, they knew second-floor living wasn't ideal for aging in place, particularly when Hunter developed vertigo that made climbing stairs unsafe.

Bonnie and Hunter didn't want their adult children worrying about them as they got older, as they had worried about their parents. Instead, the Moores hoped to set themselves up to live independently for as long as possible — and have fun while doing it.

Luckily, the house next door was the perfect solution to their problem.

• LeBron James' multimillion-dollar real estate portfolio is as impressive as his NBA career.
• His portfolio includes a $36.75 million Beverly Hills property where he's building a compound.
• He also purchased a home in Coconut Grove. Take a look at the homes he's owned over the years.

LeBron James has had a legendary run on the court. The four-time NBA champion has played for the Cleveland Cavaliers, Miami Heat, Los Angeles Lakers, and now the Philadelphia 76ers, winning titles with his first three teams.

His real estate portfolio has grown alongside his career. James has bought homes near most of the cities where he has played, building a multimillion-dollar collection of properties in the process.

Forbes estimates James' net worth to be $1.4 billion as of publication. Over the years, he has secured lucrative endorsement deals and business ventures with brands including Nike, Beats by Dre, PepsiCo, and Fanatics.

Now, James is reportedly living in a luxury building in New York City and commuting by helicopter to Philadelphia for 76ers games and to the team's practice facility in Camden, New Jersey (the flights are covered through his partnership with Fanatics) — a routine that has drawn criticism from some fans.

Take a look at some of the properties James has purchased over the years, from a custom-built home in Akron, Ohio, to a 13,000-square-foot mansion in Beverly Hills.

• I swapped homes with a stranger and traded my San Francisco condo for a house in Seattle.
• For a month, I lived in Seattle to figure out if I would want to move there permanently.
• Although Seattle isn't the right city for me, the experience taught me what I want in my next home.

After 18 years of living in San Francisco, I was seriously starting to consider moving.

I loved the life I had built there, but taking the next step — like buying my own house with a yard — felt out of reach for me. However, I was afraid I would regret leaving the place I had called home for so many years.

When thinking of places I'd like to live, Seattle immediately came to mind. I figured the city would offer similar energy and career opportunities as San Francisco, and I loved its proximity to striking natural beauty.

Plus, I'd visited the West Coast city many times and had a good friend who lived there, so it seemed like a logical move. But instead of taking the leap immediately, I decided to test out living in the city for a month to make sure it was the right fit for me.

Through HomeExchange, a platform that allows users to swap homes with people from around the world, I traded my Noe Valley condo for a house with a yard in the Ballard neighborhood of Seattle for the month of July.

I got to experience Seattle as a local instead of a tourist

Although I'd visited Seattle many times over the years, this was my first chance to test everyday life there with my dog, Pepper — not just experience the city as a tourist.

I worked remotely, went grocery shopping, and checked out the Ballard Farmers Market on Sundays. Pepper and I explored different parks on morning walks and went to local breweries in the evenings.

I really prioritized spending time in Ballard, since that was the neighborhood I was most interested in possibly calling home. I loved that the residential parts were filled with single-family homes on tree-lined streets, but the location was also walkable to a historic core filled with shops, restaurants, and bars.

It felt like it could be the perfect combination of having a home with a yard in a residential neighborhood, while still having the city life and walkability I loved in San Francisco.

However, staying for a month also allowed me to experience some of the pain points I'd deal with as a local.

For example, although I found Ballard incredibly walkable, once I left the neighborhood, Seattle as a whole felt much more spread out and suburban than San Francisco. I found myself driving and sitting in traffic more than I'm used to.

One night, I was invited to go to my friend's house for dinner. What I thought would be a quick, 30-minute drive turned into a 55-minute headache in rush-hour traffic. In this moment, I realized moving around the city would require more planning than I initially expected.

Having Pepper with me also gave me insights into dog regulations that I never would have noticed on vacation. Although Seattle is a very dog-friendly city, I found there are more restrictions around water access and off-leash areas than I ever would have known about as a tourist.

I'm used to letting Pepper run off-leash in the sand at Fort Funston in San Francisco, but I found that most sandy beaches in Seattle don't allow dogs. Luckily, she was still able to sunbathe and people-watch from the yard of the house we were staying in.

The house swap helped me figure out what I want from a permanent home

Having someone stay in my home gave me insight into what she loved about it, and it made me appreciate what I already had.

The woman I traded homes with mentioned that many of my neighbors greeted her and that people were friendly on her daily dog walks in Noe Valley. I wasn't surprised that she felt this way. After all, the community in my neighborhood is one of my favorite things about San Francisco.

Spending time away gave me clarity on what I value in the home I already have, and some perspective on what I want in my next home.

A month in Seattle made it clear that the city is not my place. It also confirmed that I wanted some things that are out of reach for me in San Francisco because of the cost of housing, like a house with a yard.

Ideally, I'd like to find a place that combines the best parts of both cities: affordability, a walkable neighborhood with a sense of community, and natural beauty. I also realized that avoiding heavy traffic and crowds may mean looking beyond major cities.

Thankfully, trading homes was a relatively low-cost, low-risk way to test a major life decision like moving. Before making an expensive move, I was able to refine my list of what I want in my next home, and what I don't.

For now, I'm still searching for my new city, but my vision of what the next chapter will look like is much clearer.

• I spent my 20s climbing the career ladder and building the life of my dreams in Scotland.
• Then, after losing my dad, I decided to make a big change: I moved abroad and went back to school.
• I've been struggling financially, but I know that I made the right choice.

For most of my 20s, I wanted to climb the career ladder — and hoped that as soon as I reached the top, everything would become clear and I would live happily ever after.

My life felt like it was headed in the right direction. I was on a steady, exciting career trajectory in the climate policy field. I even bought my first flat in an up-and-coming area of Edinburgh.

Then, my dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer in late 2022. The next few years were spent grappling with his illness and, eventually, his death.

I quickly felt the whole ecosystem of my life fall apart. I was struggling at work, and I didn't know how to ask for help. I tried my best to carry on as normal and try to convince myself that the work I was doing — and, by extension, myself — was important.

As I edged toward my 30th birthday in early 2025, against a backdrop of grief and burnout, the need for change felt urgent and existential.

I made a drastic change

It was shortly after this, in the spring, that I decided a move abroad was exactly what I needed.

I quit my job and spent the next few months sending applications to schools across Europe, hoping to pursue a master's degree in my field and embark on a fresh start.

When an offer came from a university in Budapest, I knew that was where I would be going. I had visited for the first time about a decade prior, and fallen in love. I remember thinking, "I could see myself living here one day," not thinking that that "one day" would ever actually come.

In September, I packed up my life, started renting out my Edinburgh flat, and made the move.

The first few months brought a mix of excitement, fear, and disbelief. There was a lot of bureaucracy to navigate — forms to fill out, applications to be processed — and I couldn't relax until everything was completed.

I was also pretty lonely in the beginning. When I first moved, I didn't know a single person in Budapest and had to build a completely new social circle from scratch.

I also sometimes felt like an imposter: I was a lot older than the fresh-faced students in their early 20s who made up the bulk of my classmates. It felt like I was in a completely different life stage, and I was worried I didn't fit in.

Financially, the move has been difficult

Once I got settled, many of my anxieties subsided. I loved my new flat and enjoyed going back to school and learning new things.

Unfortunately, the hardest part — finding work — is ongoing. I figured I'd be able to get a part-time office job while I completed my degree, but it's been difficult. I've had to rely on my savings much more than I expected.

I've done what I can to get by. This summer, I worked long hours at a temp job; I've also worked as a teaching assistant at my university and done some voiceover work. However, none of this compares to what I used to earn as a full-time employee with a senior title.

And although the rent in Budapest is generally a lot lower than in Edinburgh, my general cost of living still feels pretty high, particularly when it comes to groceries and daily expenses.

This sense of financial precarity is difficult, and it's definitely not sustainable long-term. I'm lucky to have some income from my renter in Edinburgh and savings from my years working full-time — but there are still moments when I feel very acutely aware of the security I left behind.

I'm making less money now, but I'm happier than ever

Despite the erratic, unsteady, and low-paid nature of all these jobs — or maybe even because of it — my attitude toward work has changed.

For so many years, my job was all I talked and worried about. I felt like what I did defined me as a person.

My jobs now might not be as "stable" or consistent, but I no longer view my career as my identity. Instead, I think of my jobs as a series of experiences — some good, some bad — that have made my world bigger and my life richer (unfortunately, not literally).

My attitude toward spending has changed, too. In the past, I would spend money on clothes, nights out, expensive nail salons, and vacations without really thinking. Now I'm much more frugal and intentional about my money, which I think is a good thing.

Most of all, though, my move forced me out of a comfort zone that was becoming increasingly less comfortable. Starting fresh somewhere new — and making my life here work, even amid the challenges — has shown me that I'm more resilient than I ever thought I could be.

I know now that no matter what gets thrown at me, I will deal with it somehow.

At times, I wonder how much easier my life would be if I had stayed where I was — and if I'm being honest, the answer is probably "a lot." But I am so glad I didn't choose the easy option.

I'm on track to graduate next June, and I am excited about what lies ahead. I'm not sure yet whether I'll explore opportunities elsewhere in Europe or perhaps move back to the UK — but I hope that no matter where I end up, I will return more confident and self-assured than when I left.

• Moving to Barcelona from Los Angeles six years ago has come with a few culture shocks.
• At first, I struggled with businesses taking midday breaks and most shops being closed on Sundays.
• Eventually, I adapted. I now appreciate breaks and feel less pressure to optimize all my time.

I had 30 minutes left on my lunch break — just enough time to squeeze in a new errand before I had to get back to work. I had only recently moved to Barcelona, and I really needed to get an extra key made for my new roommate.

I typed "locksmith" into Google Maps and rushed out the door. I zigzagged through the narrow streets of my neighborhood trying to find the place. I checked my watch and saw I only had 20 minutes.

I picked up my pace and finally arrived at the small shop. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and reached for the door, but it wouldn't budge.

I peeked in through the window and saw no one. I knocked several times, and with each knock, I was becoming more frustrated, knowing I was losing precious time.

I opened Google Maps again to look up the store's phone number and saw its hours. I was dumbfounded; the store was open from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. and then again from 5 to 8 p.m.

I was so angry — I had wasted my lunch break and didn't even accomplish what I set out to do.

At first, I thought Spain was making me less productive

Growing up in Los Angeles, I was used to being able to get pretty much anything done at almost any time of day. Between 24-hour supermarkets and medical offices with evening and weekend hours, everything there seemed built around convenience.

In Barcelona, though, rest seems to take priority. Many stores close during midday for a "siesta" or "nap" break, and a lot of businesses are not open on Sundays.

This new way of life meant I had to plan a lot more before trying to complete my to-do list. I couldn't simply squeeze in errands when they were convenient for me; I had to work around the schedules of those around me.

While living in LA, my favorite time to do grocery shopping was on Sunday. I could fill up my fridge and prepare for the week ahead, but that was no longer possible in Barcelona, as many big supermarkets are closed on Sundays.

During my first year in Spain, I'd often wake up lazily on Sunday mornings and wander over to the supermarket, only to see the doors closed, and I'd be hit with a reality check time and time again.

I wasn't living in the United States anymore, but I couldn't seem to shake off the faster pace of living I was accustomed to back in LA. I was finding it difficult to adapt and was worried that I would become less productive because I couldn't get things done on my time.

Soon, I realized that if I couldn't change the schedule, I had to start adjusting to it. I started splitting errands throughout the week when I knew places would be open, instead of trying to get them done all at once.

Giving myself space between these tasks actually helped me to be less forgetful and more efficient. I had to focus on one thing at a time, which helped me be more present.

In time, I realized it was doing the opposite

Now that I've been in Spain for about six years, I've gotten used to my new routines. And, in time, I found myself feeling less annoyed by the limited hours — I've actually begun to enjoy them.

For one, I felt less pressure to optimize all of my free time.

My lunch breaks became about savoring my meal and actually taking a break, sometimes reading a few chapters in a book or taking a walk in the park. Sundays became about sleeping in, enjoying time with my family, taking a long walk with my dog, and preparing for the week ahead simply by just having a relaxing afternoon.

Even though it wasn't necessarily my choice to stop doing errands whenever I pleased, it forced me to slow down. I started feeling calmer and less stressed, and surprisingly, even more productive.

I became more mindful of how I spent my time and allowed myself moments to truly rest, which gave me more energy to get things done. I still get everything on my to-do list completed; it just might take a little longer.

And before I leave my apartment, I always make sure to check the store hours just in case.

Home price cuts are common in these 10 metros, drawn from Redfin's ranking of the 50 most populous U.S. metros, led by Denver and Indianapolis

The things buyers regret not checking before closing are ordinary questions about layout, storage, costs, and system age