what real estate can teach you about why you suck at relationships.

We all know that guy who owns a lot of toys.

He’s approaching his thirties.

He’s got a motorcycle. Or a boat. He’s got gadgets galore.

Or an apartment that costs half his monthly salary.

And let’s not forget the huge plasma TV he sits in front of every night to destress after a long day of work. Work that is important because it makes the money that buys the stuff.

And he's got a lot of cool stuff, and a neat bachelor pad, and he’s doing well.

His mom probably calls once a week, dropping hints about how she's getting older. She’s trying to decide if she should just throw away his baby crib because the likelihood of it ever holding a “mini-him” while she’s alive is looking grim.

And it’s annoying because obviously if he had met a girl he liked enough to marry he would have done it by now. 

Obviously, mom…

And in the mean time, he’s got a hot date with a busty blonde, and another with a bootylicious brunette already lined up for the weekend.

He’ll probably take one out on his bike, and the other on his boat because his toys are sleek and sexy and they make girls feel like their personal boundaries were more like guidelines after all.

But none of those toys are building his wealth. None of them. And the girls keep his bed warm but he keeps his heart to himself. 

Maybe he decides it’s time to invest in some property. It’s scary, because he’s never committed to anything for fifteen to thirty years and then there’s that whole “interest thing”, and taxes and he’ll have to furnish the place and maintain the lawn and he can’t just blame the spoiled milk in the fridge and the weird smell upstairs on the roommates that never seem to leave their rooms.

I’ve learned a lot lately about the difference between consumers and investors, and the details that go into buying a property for yourself. I’ve been working as a logistics coordinator for this real estate investment company for just a short time, and I have heard this challenge offered to the students we teach a few times already: 

“If you don’t move forward today, you’ll just find yourself in another room like this six months from now.”

Students come to our seminars in the hopes of finding out the secrets to building wealth through property investments and finally finding financial freedom. Many attend, but never proceed to take the next steps necessary in order to become an investor. 

One day, I asked one of the consultants on my team if I should look into buying a property of my own.

“If you possibly can, do it. Even though you’re only 21, this is the best time to invest. Nine years from now fear will stop you from taking the plunge because it will feel like there is more at risk and more to lose, even though all you really can lose in this life is time and opportunity."

I wondered if the same thing had happened to some of my older friends who couldn’t seem to settle down. Commitment, what once would have been a plunge into the deep end of a pool had grown over the years into a 1000 foot cliff jump of epic proportions. 

I thought again about the statement made at our events:

“If you don’t move forward today, you’ll just find yourself in another room like this six months from now.”

Perhaps this could be rephrased.

If you don’t move forward today, you’ll just find yourself on another date at cafe rio with a girl who’s name you’ll forget tomorrow.

The men I know, tend to flaunt how they aren’t looking to get married.

“If it happens it happens.”

But dating without the intention to get married is like choosing to pay rent indefinitely. Payments that could have gone toward building equity in a home you own are instead going towards monthly rent payments to another who owns your house. You’re building wealth for another man when you could be building it for yourself. For the sake of your own wallet, stop buying dinner for someone else’s future wife just to hopefully get a solid make-out session with a girl you don't care to see again. 

So back to "him."

Maybe he decides it's time to get married. It’s scary because he’s never committed to anything for fifteen to thirty years, let alone a lifetime. And then there’s that whole “maintaining interest in one woman thing.” And he’ll have to sacrifice some time for her, and maintain his facial hair and body hair and he can’t just blame the spoiled milk in the fridge and the weird smell upstairs on the roommates like he used to.

A lot will change.

But he’ll have her.

He’ll have the greatest investment a man could have, which is love.

Which pays him in the passive income of unconditional love, kindness, and back rubs after a long day at work. 

Work which makes the money that buys the stuff that fills the home where she lives. The home she in turn fills with laughter and lingerie and littles. Work which makes the money that buys the soccer jerseys and the spaghetti and the family trips to Lake Powell. 

A lot will change.

But thirty years from now when the mortgage is paid for, and the business is blooming, and his passport is filled with stamps,  he will turn to his side and look for her. When he aches too much to work for the money that buys the stuff that fills the house that could have had her, he will turn to his side and look for her.

And if there is no "her" beside him, if she’s married then to someone else, he will falter.

So yeah, a lot will change.

Gone will be the days of month to month contracts and date to date commitments. 

A lot will change.

But he will have her,

he will have home.