In the spring of 2022, when home prices in Austin were skyrocketing, I finally bought a house.

It was around the time the pandemic was winding down, and the news was filled with the sentiment that "if you don't buy now, you'll never be able to buy."

With people continuously moving from California to Austin and major tech companies like Tesla flocking to the area, there was a lot of talk about home prices continuing to rise.

I also thought that with two kids, I couldn't keep renting forever.

My parents in Korea helped me out, and my in-laws even co-signed on a loan, making it possible for me to finally secure my own home.

At that time, I believed that all that was left was for my family to live happily in our new home for a long time.

However, the market moved in the opposite direction of my expectations. Shortly after I bought my house, home prices in Austin peaked and began to decline.

Looking at the current market, prices are about 15% lower than what I paid. Sometimes, when I crunch the numbers, it feels like a significant portion of the down payment I made has vanished on paper. Each month when I pay the mortgage and property taxes, I feel a wave of regret, thinking, "I should have waited a little longer."

For the first year, I was solely focused on home prices. I checked real estate websites multiple times a day, looking at how much the house next door sold for and how much our neighborhood prices had dropped.

As a result, even though I was living in a new house, I felt no peace of mind. Even while sitting on the living room sofa, I thought about the value of the house, and as the numbers went down, I felt like my life was a failure.

Then one day, it suddenly hit me. I'm not planning to sell this house right now, so why am I looking at the price tag every day? Just because the home price dropped by 15% doesn't mean my living room shrank by 15%, nor does it mean one of my kids' rooms disappeared. The kitchen where I drink my morning coffee is still the same, and the dining table where we have dinner as a family is still there.

These days, I try to focus more on my kids than on home prices. They're now in upper elementary school, so they don't need my attention all day like they used to.

When they were younger, I was overwhelmed just feeding, bathing, and putting them to bed, but now they do their homework and play with friends on their own.

Of course, when they hit their teenage years, I'll have new worries, but at least I feel like I'm gradually becoming more at ease.

So I tell myself, "Just hang in there a little longer. The kids are growing up, and we'll get through this time together."

And on days when I feel really down, I quietly watch our dog, Sundong.

Dogs don't know about home prices, interest rates, or economic news. When I come home, they greet me at the door, wagging their tails, and that's all that matters.

Watching them makes me realize that I've been too focused on numbers.

Humans live worrying about the future, but dogs seem to show us that all they need is to be happy today.

Of course, I need to make practical preparations. I have to manage the loan burden, appeal property tax assessments, and set aside emergency funds.

But I now understand that those preparations and endless worries are a different matter.

Now that I'm in my forties, I've come to accept that I can't make every life choice at the perfect time.

You can't only buy stocks at the bottom, and you can't always buy a house at the lowest point.

At that time, it was the best choice for my family, and now my role is to uphold that choice well.

Ultimately, happiness isn't determined by home prices.

The sound of my kids laughing and running around, the time spent walking the dogs on weekends, and the ordinary days spent having dinner together as a family bring much greater happiness.

The market will continue to rise and fall, but my life goes on today.

It seems I'm finally starting to understand that happiness isn't something others create for me, but something my heart and my choices shape.