For the longest time, I thought my condo was around 850 square feet.
Not exactly 850, but somewhere in that range. That number lived in my head for years, and I never questioned it.
Then one day, while looking through some paperwork, I realized something surprising:
My condo is actually only 672 square feet.
And honestly?
Nothing changed.
The walls didn’t suddenly move inward. The condo didn’t feel smaller overnight. I didn’t wake up the next morning feeling cramped or deprived.
I was perfectly content before I knew the real number, and I’m perfectly content now.
That realization made me think a lot about retirement, downsizing, and how much space we really need to be happy.
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The Bigger House Mindset
Most of us grew up believing bigger was always better.
Bigger homes.
More bedrooms.
More bathrooms.
More storage.
More upgrades.
For years, I believed that too. Not because I was trying to impress anyone, but because that’s what success looked like.
You work your whole life so eventually you can “move up.”
But retirement has a funny way of changing your priorities.
At some point, you stop asking:
“How big can I live?”
And start asking:
“How simply can I live comfortably?”
That’s a completely different question.
We Only Use a Small Part of Our Homes Anyway
When you really think about it, most people only live in a few parts of their home.
You probably have:
- One chair you always sit in
- One side of the couch you prefer
- One bathroom you mainly use
- One bedroom
- One spot in the kitchen where everything happens
Meanwhile, entire rooms sit mostly unused.
Guest bedrooms become storage rooms.
Formal dining rooms get used twice a year.
Basements fill with things nobody remembers buying.
There’s nothing wrong with having a larger home if you enjoy it and can comfortably afford it. But for me personally, I realized I didn’t need all that extra space.
This condo gives me exactly what I use every day.
No wasted rooms.
No extra bathrooms.
No giant areas full of things I forgot I owned.
Just enough space for my actual life.
Downsizing Was More Emotional Than Physical
The hardest part of downsizing usually isn’t the smaller space.
It’s letting go.
We attach memories to belongings. Every object seems connected to a period of life, a family member, or a version of ourselves we’re afraid to leave behind.
That’s one thing I touched on in my post about The Unexpected Joys of Not Caring After 60 because getting older slowly changes your relationship with possessions and expectations.
At some point, you start realizing peace has value too.
Lower bills have value.
Less maintenance has value.
Simplicity has value.
And honestly, retirement feels lighter when you stop carrying around things you don’t truly need.
Why Smaller Living Works for Me
One thing I appreciate about this condo is how manageable it is.
My monthly condo payment and HOA together are around $181 a month.
That’s hard to beat in today’s world.
When I look at rental prices now, I honestly don’t know how many retirees comfortably afford them. In some areas, even modest apartments can easily cost over $1,500 a month.
That financial pressure changes retirement completely.
One reason I talk openly about retirement finances on this site is because I know many people are trying to make Social Security work realistically.
If you’ve read my post I Retired With No Savings… and Nothing Really Changed, you already know I focus heavily on keeping expenses low rather than trying to chase a bigger lifestyle.
For me, smaller living equals lower stress.
And lower stress matters more to me than extra square footage.
Retirement Changed My Definition of Success
When I was younger, I probably would’ve viewed a 672-square-foot condo differently.
Back then, bigger felt important.
Now?
Peace feels important.
A calm morning coffee.
A paid-for home.
Financial breathing room.
A quiet life.
Simple routines.
That feels like success to me now.
One thing I’ve noticed since starting the Retired and Trying YouTube channel is that many of the happiest retirees aren’t living extravagant lifestyles.
They’re living intentional ones.
That’s a big difference.
The Surprising Truth About “Enough”
The funny thing is, if I had never looked at the paperwork, I probably would’ve gone the rest of my life believing this condo was 850 square feet.
And I still would’ve been perfectly happy here.
That’s what fascinates me about this whole experience.
Because it proves something important:
A lot of happiness comes from perception.
If you believe you have enough, you usually do.
But if you constantly focus on what’s missing, nothing ever feels sufficient.
Not your house.
Not your income.
Not your life.
That mindset follows people no matter how much they upgrade.
Living Smaller Doesn’t Mean Living Worse
There’s a difference between deprivation and simplicity.
I’m not sacrificing my quality of life living here.
I still have:
- A comfortable place to sleep
- A kitchen that works perfectly fine
- A comfortable chair
- My laptop
- My coffee
- A peaceful routine
Honestly, I probably use my condo more efficiently than I used larger homes in the past.
Everything has a purpose.
And there’s something calming about that.
That idea connects a lot with what I wrote in The Power of Solitude: How Living Alone Changed Everything because living alone and living smaller both force you to become more intentional with your life.
You stop performing for other people.
You start building a life that actually works for you.
Maybe We’ve Been Sold the Wrong Dream
For decades, many of us were told the dream was:
- bigger homes
- bigger payments
- bigger lifestyles
- more possessions
But retirement changes the equation.
Once the working years end, many people realize what they truly want is:
- less stress
- lower bills
- simplicity
- peace
- flexibility
That doesn’t require thousands of square feet.
Sometimes it only requires enough.
And maybe that’s the lesson my little 672-square-foot condo taught me.
Enough is enough.
Final Thoughts
I thought my condo was bigger.
Turns out, I was wrong.
But surprisingly, discovering the real number didn’t make me feel disappointed.
If anything, it made me feel grateful.
Because this small space gives me exactly what I need:
- comfort
- affordability
- simplicity
- peace
And at this stage of life, that matters more to me than square footage ever could.
Related Posts
- The Unexpected Joys of Not Caring After 60
- The Power of Solitude: How Living Alone Changed Everything
- How to Live Well on a Retirement Budget: Frugal Tips That Don’t Feel Like Sacrifice
- After 60… You Start Thinking About This