A home to call my own

An illustrated story about looking for a place to live

Ever since my boyfriend and I moved back to the Netherlands, we’ve been looking for a permanent place to live. It’s been hard.

And sure, this is partially due to some of the (very privileged) choices I’ve made in life: I live in an expensive part of the Netherlands, I went to art school, I’m a freelancer and I’m dating an artist.

I always knew the path I’d chosen wasn’t the easiest route to a family home with a garden and a dog. And I was fine with that, I didn’t want to let my life revolve around money or material things.

Still, I’d always assumed that things would figure themselves out. That there would be somewhere for me to go, even if I wasn’t a dentist or a doctor. Now, for the first time in my life, I find myself wondering if I’ve made the right decision.

The reason is this: the housing market in the Netherlands is insane right now. Prices are sky-high, and there’s almost nothing to be found within our price range. Even if we would be willing to pay an exorbitant amount of money for a place, we would never meet the requirements set by large corporations, who have decided you need to make 3,5 times the rent to even apply. And then, when we do find a place where we meet the requirements, there are more often than not 300+ requests for a viewing. In between all of it, we’ve spend almost €500,- on documents, registration fees and additional costs, without having been invited for a viewing once.

There’s also a thing called ‘social housing’, which is supposed to be for people who do not make €50.000 a year, but there just aren’t enough houses and the waiting time goes up to twelve years (I have five in my account). Some of these houses are presented in a literal lottery, where the chance is about 1/8000 to end up on top.

So, we do the only thing we can do and spend many fruitless hours each day scrolling through housing sites, uploading documents, applying for anything we can find. All of my thoughts are about money, and about how I’m not making enough, and will never make enough to buy a house. Meanwhile, I’m not able to actually make any money, because I’m way too stressed to focus on work.

It’s all pretty frustrating- especially when I think about the many ways landlords and homeowners are profiting from this whole ordeal.

In the evenings, me and my boyfriend sometimes watch a housing show where people complain about the size of their hallway and about not having patio doors- a slightly masochistic attempt to take our minds off our own housing search. The show feels like a portal to an alternate reality. One where you actually get to decide on the amount of bedrooms, on whether or not you want an open kitchen and a double vanity.

What a life, to be able to decide where you want to live, to handpick neighborhoods that have a nice atmosphere and lots of greenery. To choose a city that you like, instead of one that is forced on you because it’s the only place you can afford.

Whether or not it’s my own fault that I’m not able to afford to buy a house, I’ve come to realize what a privilege it is to own any house at all, even if it’s a shitty one. To have a place you call your own, knowing that you won’t ever have to move unless you want to.

I do not need a Barbie Malibu dream house™- that bar has been lowered a long time ago. If I have to, I will live in a tiny flat in an old building, with moldy bathrooms and the occasional mouse. But I need a place to live.

The thing is, I have never felt so uprooted. I feel like my life is on hold, like I have no control over it anymore. It makes me question every decision I’ve ever made- like capitalism is pushing me into a smaller and smaller box, telling me to get a real job make more money work harder settle for less give up on my dreams. It’s not the life I want, but it’s getting harder and harder to not give in.

In between my own frustrations, I keep thinking about people who do not have the support system that I have. Who do not have their parents’ house to (reluctantly) move back into, or friends with a spare bedroom. Who are forced to live on couches, in cars, on the street, whilst society looks down on them thinking: ‘this is your own fault’.

Sadly I know so many others who are going through, or have gone through the same ordeal. And I know, tucked into your warm bed in the comfort your own home, it’s pretty easy to forget how the system is failing so many of us. But affordable housing should be for everyone- not just for the lucky few.

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If you’re in the Netherlands, please consider helping out by signing this petition, urging the government to take steps to actually solve the housing crisis instead of doing whatever the heck they’re currently doing. Thank you!