I have a strange identity in terms of conversations I see online in terms of renting/owning property.
Firstly, my belief is that property is theft. This world is all of ours, no part of it should belong to one person. Lives are all a transition. We rent it (Dido was spot on)
From Uni and following for a few years, I rented places, with the security of my parents, that when things went wrong (due to my ignorance, selfishness and mental health issues, at different times & overlapping times) they propped me up.
I was a student and then worked a minimum wage job in different locations at this time. I rented flats in Wakefield, Leeds & Newcastle.
In Wakefield, I lived with 2 friends in a terraced house, the rent was very reasonable. With cars going in one colour, and out another from his property, and our landlord requesting cash payments, I have reason to suspect he was not paying the requested tax.
Of course, my rent contribution then was propping him up, and that potentially hidden capital is another butterfly wing...
When he came around for the rent money, my friends and I would feel obliged to listen to his and his friend's sexual exploits. We did not encourage this, and it was hard to curb his monologues.
He was a cheerful person, and, outside of the behaviour previoiusly referenced, friendly to us.
In Leeds, 2006-2007, there was a culture of pushing 'luxury rents' to students, regardless of the financial capacity of students wanting to come to Leeds Uni to study.
Many of the front-facing offices for the agencies pushing such rentals looked like bullshit spaceage offices...slick, yuppy aspirational...
I believe there was an individual who profited from a number of these subsidiary companies/agencies... He would be taken to court every so often around violations but was so rich he could distance himself from accountability
I came from a background that was not in a place to rent 'luxury properties', but I rented a room in a 7 room house with student friends. It was a lovely structure but a bare and uncared-for house.
It was hard to find a place to move into, and I was grateful that group of people invited me to join. Getting the agency to attend to anything took forever. Once we were all in and paying, that was their concern exhausted.
I then got very lucky in finding a studio flat nearby some friends. It was just over a quarter of my wage, but was one ensuite room in the basement of a terraced property. There was a double-glazed door, and this was the only source of light, at lower than street level.
My mental health was getting worse, and I was exacerbating this with smoking marijuana more regularly. The lack of light, isolation, and unfulfilling work made the larger issues I was struggling with unmanageable.
I developed a psychosis of sorts, hiding from visitations. Remaining still in my room until those knocking on the doors left. I was fearful of conversation. I would unplug the phone.
I turned up to work without fail because I was institionalised not to let down pre-existing arrangements. It was my body in attendance, my mechanics, not me.
That broke eventually. I quit. I was so scared to speak to the reality for which I was really leaving, I lied and said I had another job. This was the only lie I told my boss then. In many ways he had been good to me, and I am ashamed that I lied then.
The next place I rented was a messanine one person flat in Fenham, Newcastle-upon-Tyne. I was looking for work at the time and my benefits were covering my rent. My dependence on alcohol was at its highest when I started renting here. In retrospect, I was not ready to live alone
I say ready, because I had (and still have) the luxury of parents who love and care for me, and have a home of their own that could/can accommodate me. That summer I had been unbearable to them. I do not know how they managed to be so generous towards me, with the way I behaved
In my delusion, I started up in Newcastle-upon-Tyne having applied for an MSc. but although I completed a successful application, in the midst of my Depression and alcoholism, I was not fit to learn at this level, or any basic level to be honest.
Though I was not suicidal, and I am fortunate enough to have never felt suicidal ideation, I was drinking to slowly destroy my body. I felt worthless, and felt this daily act of destruction a fair response to the things of myself that I hated (Of course, in hindsight, it was not)
Anyhows - in terms of renting - this is how unfair our system is. A distant relative, who I had met twice in my life, died, and surprisingly left me an amount of money that I was not expecting.
This is not my money, I did not deserve this money, why would he leave me this money?
But he did. It was enough to buy a flat in Newcastle-upon-Tyne. My parents suggested I do this, and having gone through the past ten years of instability and being a liability when I could not support myself, I felt this would at least give them respite from my burdening them.
Of course, there were many benefits to me too. No rent, I could look after the property autonomously etc... I could take more pride in its character etc.
All this out of nowhere. I was still working a next-to minimum wage job when I moved into this flat in 2009.
I believe I was on something like 12-13,000 a year, something like that, for full-time, 9-5 office job.
Saving to even establish ownership of such a property would have been impossible for me on the wages I was on. It should not have been mine, and yet, it was.
I hated myself when renting, because I always felt on a tightrope, and that any minute I would fall, it would be me that was the burden to others. I did not feel the critique of the system, I felt personally responsible. This perspective is inaccurate. All people deserve a home.
I then hated myself owning my flat because I hadn't *earned it*. Again, this perspective is a lie. All people deserve a home. It reveals that internalised lie, rampant individualistic capitalist culture- you work + that work means you are entitled to the things you have. Bullshit
So what if I'd worked a job, and the money I had from that lead me to have a house. What the fuck are we doing? Because of the job I'm in, I get to manage to do that, whilst others, who are LIVE LIVING PEOPLE, don't? All people deserve a home.
I now have moved from that property, for work and for wanting to explore living in a different place. I now am renting and property and renting our my flat in Newcastle. I am both a landlord and a tenant. I feel extremely privileged to be able to do this.
Also, I would not be able to live in the place I am living and renting, without the support I get from renting out my Newcastle home.
The rent I pay as a tenant is approx. double what I take as a landlord. I feel guilt and shame at being a landlord taking any money for no labour on my part. I comfort myself knowing I pay someone much more for the same absence on contribution. But 2 wrongs do not make a right
I hope one day to be able to either not rent, or rent in a country that gives proper security to those who rent - and not have to be a landlord. I want no house that is not my home.
Firstly, my belief is that property is theft. This world is all of ours, no part of it should belong to one person. Lives are all a transition. We rent it (Dido was spot on)
From Uni and following for a few years, I rented places, with the security of my parents, that when things went wrong (due to my ignorance, selfishness and mental health issues, at different times & overlapping times) they propped me up.
I was a student and then worked a minimum wage job in different locations at this time. I rented flats in Wakefield, Leeds & Newcastle.
In Wakefield, I lived with 2 friends in a terraced house, the rent was very reasonable. With cars going in one colour, and out another from his property, and our landlord requesting cash payments, I have reason to suspect he was not paying the requested tax.
Of course, my rent contribution then was propping him up, and that potentially hidden capital is another butterfly wing...
When he came around for the rent money, my friends and I would feel obliged to listen to his and his friend's sexual exploits. We did not encourage this, and it was hard to curb his monologues.
He was a cheerful person, and, outside of the behaviour previoiusly referenced, friendly to us.
In Leeds, 2006-2007, there was a culture of pushing 'luxury rents' to students, regardless of the financial capacity of students wanting to come to Leeds Uni to study.
Many of the front-facing offices for the agencies pushing such rentals looked like bullshit spaceage offices...slick, yuppy aspirational...
I believe there was an individual who profited from a number of these subsidiary companies/agencies... He would be taken to court every so often around violations but was so rich he could distance himself from accountability
I came from a background that was not in a place to rent 'luxury properties', but I rented a room in a 7 room house with student friends. It was a lovely structure but a bare and uncared-for house.
It was hard to find a place to move into, and I was grateful that group of people invited me to join. Getting the agency to attend to anything took forever. Once we were all in and paying, that was their concern exhausted.
I then got very lucky in finding a studio flat nearby some friends. It was just over a quarter of my wage, but was one ensuite room in the basement of a terraced property. There was a double-glazed door, and this was the only source of light, at lower than street level.
My mental health was getting worse, and I was exacerbating this with smoking marijuana more regularly. The lack of light, isolation, and unfulfilling work made the larger issues I was struggling with unmanageable.
I developed a psychosis of sorts, hiding from visitations. Remaining still in my room until those knocking on the doors left. I was fearful of conversation. I would unplug the phone.
I turned up to work without fail because I was institionalised not to let down pre-existing arrangements. It was my body in attendance, my mechanics, not me.
That broke eventually. I quit. I was so scared to speak to the reality for which I was really leaving, I lied and said I had another job. This was the only lie I told my boss then. In many ways he had been good to me, and I am ashamed that I lied then.
The next place I rented was a messanine one person flat in Fenham, Newcastle-upon-Tyne. I was looking for work at the time and my benefits were covering my rent. My dependence on alcohol was at its highest when I started renting here. In retrospect, I was not ready to live alone
I say ready, because I had (and still have) the luxury of parents who love and care for me, and have a home of their own that could/can accommodate me. That summer I had been unbearable to them. I do not know how they managed to be so generous towards me, with the way I behaved
In my delusion, I started up in Newcastle-upon-Tyne having applied for an MSc. but although I completed a successful application, in the midst of my Depression and alcoholism, I was not fit to learn at this level, or any basic level to be honest.
Though I was not suicidal, and I am fortunate enough to have never felt suicidal ideation, I was drinking to slowly destroy my body. I felt worthless, and felt this daily act of destruction a fair response to the things of myself that I hated (Of course, in hindsight, it was not)
Anyhows - in terms of renting - this is how unfair our system is. A distant relative, who I had met twice in my life, died, and surprisingly left me an amount of money that I was not expecting.
This is not my money, I did not deserve this money, why would he leave me this money?
But he did. It was enough to buy a flat in Newcastle-upon-Tyne. My parents suggested I do this, and having gone through the past ten years of instability and being a liability when I could not support myself, I felt this would at least give them respite from my burdening them.
Of course, there were many benefits to me too. No rent, I could look after the property autonomously etc... I could take more pride in its character etc.
All this out of nowhere. I was still working a next-to minimum wage job when I moved into this flat in 2009.
I believe I was on something like 12-13,000 a year, something like that, for full-time, 9-5 office job.
Saving to even establish ownership of such a property would have been impossible for me on the wages I was on. It should not have been mine, and yet, it was.
I hated myself when renting, because I always felt on a tightrope, and that any minute I would fall, it would be me that was the burden to others. I did not feel the critique of the system, I felt personally responsible. This perspective is inaccurate. All people deserve a home.
I then hated myself owning my flat because I hadn't *earned it*. Again, this perspective is a lie. All people deserve a home. It reveals that internalised lie, rampant individualistic capitalist culture- you work + that work means you are entitled to the things you have. Bullshit
So what if I'd worked a job, and the money I had from that lead me to have a house. What the fuck are we doing? Because of the job I'm in, I get to manage to do that, whilst others, who are LIVE LIVING PEOPLE, don't? All people deserve a home.
I now have moved from that property, for work and for wanting to explore living in a different place. I now am renting and property and renting our my flat in Newcastle. I am both a landlord and a tenant. I feel extremely privileged to be able to do this.
Also, I would not be able to live in the place I am living and renting, without the support I get from renting out my Newcastle home.
The rent I pay as a tenant is approx. double what I take as a landlord. I feel guilt and shame at being a landlord taking any money for no labour on my part. I comfort myself knowing I pay someone much more for the same absence on contribution. But 2 wrongs do not make a right
I hope one day to be able to either not rent, or rent in a country that gives proper security to those who rent - and not have to be a landlord. I want no house that is not my home.
- c.h. 11th August 2019
