I had ignored my neighbor's complaints, trespassing, and constant need for control because I wanted peace. Then he parked his SUV on my lawn and mocked me for objecting, so I finally gave him a reason to respect the property line.
I was 26 when I bought my first house.
It was not large or impressive.
It had two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a kitchen with cabinets from another decade, but it was mine.
I had used the inheritance my father left me and the savings I had accumulated from my finance job.
Thanks to my career, I had learned more about interest rates than anyone else my age.
The house sat on a quiet street where most people had lived for a long time.
I was the youngest homeowner there by at least 10 years.
At first, everyone was kind.
