My Friends Are Always Complaining About Housing. But It’s Their Own Fault.
Kristin Wong is Pay Dirt’s new weekly columnist. She’s currently a writer, researcher, and journalist in Pasadena, California. She is the author of Get Money and writes a newsletter called Untranslatable.
Pay Dirt is Slate’s money advice column. Have a question? Send it to Athena and Kristin here. (It’s anonymous!)
Dear Pay Dirt,
I’m getting really frustrated with some of my friend’s financial stances on housing. All of them complain about the housing market, which I think is a legitimate concern for many people, but not my friends. Most of my friends make six figures or close to it. We live in a medium size city where the cost of living is less than the national average so six figures is a really good salary. Several years ago, I had a crisis and realized I didn’t want to be in my high-paying career, so I made some major changes to my budget, which mostly consisted of living with elderly women who needed a little help around the house. This has helped me save up quite a bit of money. My friends, however, have been less than supportive of my life changes and some of them mock me for being “basically homeless.”
This weekend, we all got together and I found out that the reason my friends don’t think they will ever be able to buy a house isn’t because of the mortgage rates but that most of them aren’t seriously saving up down payments. So when we were all talking about that this weekend “Ben,” the least supportive of all my friends, turned to me and said, “You’re never going to be able to save up a downpayment, you’re going to have to live with old ladies forever.” I responded with, “I’ve been living with old ladies for so long that I have almost enough to buy an entire house.” The conversation pretty much stopped when everybody started peppering me with questions about how I did it.
I told them all about all the cost-saving measures I had implemented and then they all started saying things like, “Oh yeah, you’re depriving yourself,” and “I could never give up X, it helps keep me sane.” I finally snapped and said, “Yeah, and that’s why you can’t even save a down payment for a house and I’m about to buy one.” I stood up and left. I know that comment was mean, but I couldn’t take it. Some of these friends are pretty supportive of me, but most in the group aren’t. I’ve tried arranging social outings with just the supportive friends, but the others always find out and end up crashing. I’ve tried to find more frugal friends over the past several years, but I can only seem to find frugal friends who don’t like to do most of the things I do. I still like going out, just frugally, and these friends are the ones I go out with. I’m at my wits end for what to do. I considered asking for a moratorium on housing talk, but I want friends who will celebrate with me when I eventually buy a new house. Do you have any advice on what I can do to keep a decent social life and not be so frustrated with unsupportive friends?
—Friendly Fireback
Dear Friendly Fireback,
In an ideal world, your friends would’ve been a little more supportive. That being said, I’m sensing judgment about their money choices from your end, too. There’s a good chance they’re picking up on that, and it’s making them defensive.
We all have very different priorities, goals, and opinions when it comes to money, and it can be hard to talk about our own attitudes without coming across as critical of someone else’s. Sure, it’s possible, but for it to work, everyone needs to be respectful and open to having their own ideas challenged. There’s a pretty easy hack for making this go at least marginally better the next time around, though. Stick to what therapists call “I” statements. Instead of telling your friends, “You could never save for a down payment,” say, “Saving for a down payment is important to me, so it doesn’t feel like I’m depriving myself.” When the conversation is focused on everyone’s own thoughts, feelings, and choices—rather than someone else’s—it can cut some of the defensiveness. Obviously, there’s no use in litigating what your friends should’ve said now, but as another example: Instead of statements like, “You’re depriving yourself,” they might’ve said, “If I had to save that much money, I would feel deprived.” Or, they could have tried being curious and instead asked a question: “Does it feel like you’re depriving yourself?” Whatever the exact dialogue, the crucial difference is that it doesn’t focus on the other person’s choices—only your own.
I’d also push back on the idea that your friends can’t be legitimately concerned about today’s housing market because they’re high-earners. They could be juggling debt—medical, student, or otherwise—or caregiving for ailing family members. Regardless, it’s a good reminder that you might not have the full picture.
Next time the topic comes up, try setting an example by using “I” statements” yourself, then see if it catches on. If it doesn’t, tell your friends that the conversation makes you uncomfortable and ask if they’d be willing to talk about it with less judgment. There’s also nothing wrong with a moratorium. Some topics just don’t work with some friends.
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Dear Pay Dirt,
Do you think it’s ethical to take fees as an executor of a will for family? My grandmother died last year and she left me as executor of the will. I think the only reason she did this was because I have been selling things on eBay for years. My family has been pretty civil and everything is coming to an end. I did a ton of work and decided I would take the fees I was entitled to. I am not requesting the maximum, but I am requesting some. One of my aunts recently saw the paperwork on my desk and started snooping. She asked me what the fee was and I told her it was my fee as an executor of the will.
She clearly got upset and just kept asking me how I could take money from my family. I told her I had done a lot of work and was not even requesting the most that I could. The amount was honestly more than I expected once I ran the math and I think my aunt is just mad at the high amount. I don’t want to reduce it. I tallied up all the work and picked a rate before I did the final calculations to try to be as fair as possible. My aunt, of course, called everybody who was in the will and most of them are now upset with me. I’m wondering what you might recommend doing or saying. I’m also wondering if they can even do something to block this in court, which I absolutely don’t want to happen. Any advice?
—Estate Chaos
Dear Estate Chaos,
What you’re going through is extremely common because there’s so much grief, family history, and other emotional dynamics wrapped up in the probate process. What’s more, a custom considered normal in one culture (like compensating the executor of the will) might be unheard of in another. That said, my take is that there’s a reason this commission exists: It takes a great deal of work to execute a will.
Executors are responsible for locating and transferring assets, obtaining and filling out administrative documents, paying off debts—the list goes on. If your grandmother took the time to draft a will that names you as the executor, she was almost certainly aware that you would be compensated for all of this work. Depending on where you live, your family members may be able to contest the fees, but it would probably be costly and difficult for them to do so. Still, keep a record of all the work you’ve done: time logs, financial statements, email correspondence with creditors, lawyers, accountants, and so on.
Next time the topic comes up with your family, emphasize that this was a lot of work and it was also your grandmother’s decision. Your aunt doesn’t exactly sound like she’s going to respond well to this—snooping and turning other family members against you are not encouraging signs—but hold your own. Be kind and stick to the facts. You might try something like, “I know it’s a difficult time, we’re all grieving, and this can feel awkward. But ultimately, I intend to carry out my grandmother’s wishes as they are outlined in the will.” If she can’t respect that, you might need to keep your distance until she can learn to accept it.
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Dear Pay Dirt,
My partner and I have lived in a one-bedroom apartment in an expensive but amazing city for the last 15 years. We pay around $500/month under market for our place (it’s owner-occupied and we’re pretty great tenants). We had a baby last year. Everything about our apartment is perfect—price, location, even aesthetics—it’s just one room too small, and at some point, we’re going to have to move. We dream of moving into a place we own, especially since moving to a two-bedroom apartment in our city or a nearby one would double our rent and stall our savings.
We’re both low-earning, which would ordinarily qualify us for affordable housing, but our assets disqualify us (we’re saving dynamos, and one of his parents passed away young, leaving an inheritance). Between the two of us, we could afford a 30 percent down payment even in our ridiculously-priced city. But because of our low incomes, nobody wants to sell to us. We had a one-on-one with a local loan officer which boiled down to: Yeah, we’re good for it, but it’s not going to happen.
We love our city. We’re open to nearby cities, but they’re not any cheaper. We don’t want to live in a not-city. We don’t want to leave the area entirely. We’ve got family here, and friends of 20-plus years, and it’s a safe place to raise a kid who could be queer or trans. My partner thinks we should hang on in our cheap one-bedroom and hope for interest rates to drop. I think this makes sense in the short term, but with a date by which we start looking for a larger place, even if it means committing to renting for another 10 years. Neither of us is thrilled about that. But is there anything else we can do? I know “make more money” seems like the obvious choice, but we’re both already earning at the high end of our notoriously low-paying but beloved professions. Do we have any other options? We’ve been saving for a house for so long… but nobody wants to take our money!
—Renters for Life?
Dear Renters for Life,
You’re both, unfortunately, not the only ones. There’s been a recent uptick in mortgage applications being denied for “insufficient income,” and monthly mortgage payments are increasing, too. You might be able to enlist a co-signer to help you get approved, but if your lender says it’s not going to happen, it sounds like that might not be a possibility.
At the same time, there’s a reason lenders are rejecting these loans—they don’t want to take on the risk of potential borrowers not being able to make monthly mortgage payments on a lower income. If you run into a financial hardship—you or your partner loses a job, for example—it might be difficult to make ends meet. Yes, you have assets, but are those assets easily liquified if you can’t afford your bills? And how long would they keep you afloat? I don’t know what the rest of your budget looks like, but a good rule of thumb is that you shouldn’t spend more than 30 percent of your gross income on housing. That’s unrealistic in many areas, especially with rises in the cost of living, but the rule of thumb is meant to keep financial risks low. So if you can afford to follow it, you should.
Your partner might be right. It’s hard to make plans for what the next 10 years will look like because things are always fluctuating—recessions, interest rates, and policies. Sure, you could try for a higher-paying job to see if you get approved. But leaving your career is a big sacrifice, and if your housing is cheap, you’re currently in a pretty good financial position. I say sit tight, keep saving, and see what happens in the next year or two.
Our system needs an overhaul and what you’re experiencing is likely a consequence of the affordable housing crisis and income inequality. Keep in mind: Many people choose to be lifelong renters, and there’s nothing wrong with that, either. You live in a great city, you love your jobs, and you have a community. Sounds pretty ideal, even if you have to rent a bigger place instead of buying one.
Dear Pay Dirt,
What’s the etiquette for reminding someone they owe you some money? When I go out with friends, we’ll pay for things on one card and just reimburse each other to make the process of paying easier. This is usually perfectly fine! But every so often there’s one person who forgets to Venmo or Zelle or who I have to pester about sending their share a few times. How do you go about nudging them without coming across as rude or making things awkward? I know on a platform like Venmo you can nudge the request, but with something like Zelle or even cash, there’s nothing like that to do the work for you. Are people bothered to be reminded? I’m very on top of paying my friends back!
—The Collector
Dear Collector,
Yikes! I hate the awkwardness of these situations, too. But it’s completely reasonable and not at all rude to send a text or nudge reminding your friends how much they owe you. They’re the ones who forgot, so the question of etiquette is on them, and a simple nudge on Venmo won’t come across as pushy. It’s just a reminder! If the nudge doesn’t work or you’re relying on something like Zelle, here are some scripts you can try:
—Hey, friend! It was so nice to see you last week. Just sending a gentle reminder about splitting our dinner bill—if you could Venmo me your share when you get the chance, I’d appreciate it!
—Hey there! I noticed we hadn’t settled up yet for our Airbnb. I know stuff happens, so no worries. But if you could send along your portion asap, that would be great.
—Hi! Did you ever pay me for drinks the other night? I’m working on my budget.
—I hate asking this because it’s so awkward, but could you send me your half of the gift we got for Sarah? Thank you!!!
Feel free to add (or remove) exclamation points as a crutch. And don’t be afraid to toss in an emoji or two for good measure. 😬
—Kristin
I’m a first-year teacher at an urban Title I middle school. As is common for many teachers in my position, I’m using my personal paycheck to cover the gaps that classroom funding doesn’t. After I realized at the beginning of the year that many of my students were having trouble concentrating, I started keeping a stash of healthy snacks near my desk. The students know they can come take a snack when they need one. The costs add up quickly, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make if it helps my kids focus. Not long after I started keeping the food in my room, I began noticing it disappearing dramatically between the time I left each afternoon and the time I clocked in the next morning.
