A Letter to the Real Estate Market in 2026

Dear 2026,

As we look toward the real estate market in 2026, it’s worth pausing to ask what we’ve been optimizing for, and what we’ve overlooked. We’ve spent a long time talking about real estate as if it exists on a spreadsheet.
Assets. Appreciation. Interest rates. Timing the market. Winning and losing. In the process, we’ve missed something essential.

A home isn’t just something you own. It’s something that holds you. It shapes your days, your health, your relationships, and your sense of belonging far more than most of us like to admit.

As we move into this next year, maybe it’s time we start looking at real estate differently. Not as a thing to be traded, but as part of a larger life support system.

Where we live affects how we live. How we sleep. How much stress we carry. How connected or isolated we feel. How much of our life is spent commuting versus actually living it. Whether daily routines feel heavy or manageable.
Those things don’t show up on a closing statement. But they compound quietly over time.

Community is part of that equation, even though it’s rarely treated as such. . . .

It’s the ability to walk to live music on a summer night and run into neighbors you know by name. It’s the holiday parade where half the town shows up, not because it’s spectacular, but because it’s familiar. It’s the shared rhythm of a place that gives days some texture, personality and predictability.
It’s also the harder moments.

When a wildfire threatens or a flood comes through, community shows up in a different way. Neighbors checking on neighbors. People opening their homes. Local businesses stepping in. Support moving faster than any formal system ever could.

That kind of resilience isn’t accidental. It’s built over time, in places where people actually live their lives instead of just passing through.
We’ve learned that a low interest rate can still come with a high price tag if it locks someone into a place they no longer want to be. Saving a point on a mortgage doesn’t mean much if the cost is dissatisfaction, isolation, or a life that feels smaller than it should.

We’ve also learned that “holding on” isn’t always the wise move we once thought it was. Sometimes selling, even when you’ve done well on paper, creates the freedom and capital to step into a next chapter that fits who you are now, not who you were ten years ago.

There’s nothing irresponsible about choosing alignment over optimization.

A home should support your life, not delay it.

In 2026, the most important real estate decisions won’t be about timing the market perfectly. They’ll be about asking better questions.
* Does this place make daily life easier or harder?
* Does it support my health, or quietly work against it?
* Does it connect me to people, or isolate me?
* Does it allow flexibility when life inevitably changes?
* Does it contribute to my long range financial and family goals?

A good home isn’t just affordable or well-located. It’s resilient. Not just structurally, but emotionally. It gives you a sense of steadiness. It absorbs some of the noise instead of adding to it.

The communities that matter most aren’t always the flashiest. They’re the ones where you can walk to coffee, recognize faces, and feel missed if you don’t show up for a while. Where support exists without needing to be asked for.

As we look ahead, maybe success in real estate shouldn’t be measured solely by appreciation or sales charts.

Maybe it should be measured by fewer regrets.

By well-being.

By whether a place allows someone to live the life they’re trying to build.

Real estate isn’t just an asset class. It’s part of our health system. Our economic stability. Our social fabric.

In 2026, let’s start making decisions that reflect that truth.

Let’s choose homes that support who we are becoming, not just what we can afford or what the market rewards.

Because in the end, the best investment isn’t the one that looks smartest on paper.
It’s the one that makes life work better.

Laura