I have, in seventeen years of renting in New York City, paid approximately $380,000 in rent. The number is, by any honest accounting, the largest single category of expenditure in my adult life. The number is also, by every calculation I have run, less than the buy-in for the equivalent apartment today. The math is, in 2026, settled.

I am a 38-year-old woman in Brooklyn. I work from home as a writer. I have a partner, a small terrier named Olive, and a two-bedroom in a brownstone in Cobble Hill that costs $5,400 per month and has a small dog yard I have, in eighteen months, started to take for granted. My mother grew up in Pittsburgh but spent every summer of her childhood with her grandmother in a small town outside Lyon, where my grandmother bought her apartment in 1962 for the equivalent of $4,000 and sold it in 1998 for the equivalent of $80,000 and lived in it for thirty-six years in between. The arithmetic between the two has, in the last five years, become the central financial question of my life.

Below is the walk-through, in chronological order, of the six apartments I have rented in New York since 2009. I have changed my mind about several things I used to believe about renting versus buying. I have opinions on what to skip. There is a brief history of how New York went from a city of renters to a city of $1.4 million buy-ins. And there is, at the end, an honest summary — because anyone who tells you renting is "throwing money away" has not, in fact, run the numbers.

The walk-through

2009: East Village studio, 300 square feet, $1,400/month. The first apartment I rented in New York, two months after I moved here from Pittsburgh with one suitcase and a futon. The building was a walk-up, fifth floor, no elevator. The kitchen was a galley the width of my partner's current refrigerator. The bathroom had, by my recollection, a single overhead lightbulb. I paid, in twelve months, $16,800 in rent. I had, in twelve months, no furniture, no savings, and a very honest understanding of what $1,400 per month actually bought in 2009. The apartment was, by every objective measurement, terrible. The apartment is also, in 2026, the apartment where I became a New Yorker.

2012: Bed-Stuy one-bedroom, 600 square feet, $1,800/month. The second apartment, in a brownstone I shared with two roommates for the first six months and then alone for the last eighteen. The apartment had, by my partner's description, "the smallest bedroom in Brooklyn." The bedroom was, by my measurement, big enough for a full bed and a desk. The rent was, in 2012, $600 below the Bed-Stuy median. I paid, in twenty-four months, $43,200. The neighborhood was, in 2012, the neighborhood everyone warned me about. The neighborhood is, in 2026, the neighborhood my partner's parents want to move to.

2015: Williamsburg one-bedroom, 650 square feet, $2,400/month. The third apartment, in a new construction building on the border with Greenpoint, where I lived alone for eighteen months before my partner moved in. The apartment had, by my standard, a kitchen with an actual dishwasher. The dishwasher was, by every measurement, the single best amenity I had ever experienced. The rent was, in 2015, $400 above the Williamsburg median. I paid, in eighteen months, $43,200. The neighborhood was, in 2015, the neighborhood the Times had not yet started calling "the new Park Slope." The neighborhood is, in 2026, the neighborhood everyone I know has left.

2018: Park Slope two-bedroom, 850 square feet, $3,200/month. The fourth apartment, in a pre-war building on a quiet block, where my partner and I lived for four years and where Olive spent her first three years. The apartment had, by every measurement, a real dining room, a real living room, and a real second bedroom that we used, for the first two years, as a guest room and then, after we adopted Olive, as her room. The rent was, in 2018, $300 above the Park Slope median. We paid, in forty-eight months, $153,600. The neighborhood was, in 2018, the neighborhood we thought we would live in forever. The neighborhood is, in 2026, the neighborhood we could no longer afford.

2022: Crown Heights two-bedroom, 950 square feet, $4,000/month. The fifth apartment, in a brownstone walk-up, four blocks from the Brooklyn Museum, where we lived for three and a half years and where I started this article. The apartment had, by my standard, a kitchen window that faced west and got the afternoon light at an angle I learned to count on. The rent was, in 2022, $200 below the Crown Heights median. We paid, in forty-two months, $168,000. The neighborhood was, in 2022, the neighborhood we thought was "the new Park Slope." The neighborhood is, in 2026, the neighborhood we just left.

2026 (now): Cobble Hill two-bedroom, 1,050 square feet, $5,400/month. The sixth and, by every calculation, last apartment I will rent in New York. The apartment has, by every measurement, a small dog yard, a renovated kitchen, a washing machine that is, in 2026, the single best amenity I have ever owned. The rent is, in 2026, $300 above the Cobble Hill median. We will pay, in twelve months, $64,800. The neighborhood is, in 2026, the neighborhood we will live in until one of three things happens: my partner's job relocates, we have a child, or we both admit that we should leave New York. None of the three is, in 2026, imminent.

That is six apartments in seventeen years. The total rent paid, by my best calculation, is approximately $380,000. The current rent, on an annualized basis, is $64,800. The total lifetime rent, projected to age 70, is approximately $1,500,000. The total lifetime mortgage on a $1.4 million buy-in, at 7% over 30 years, is approximately $2,800,000. The math is, in 2026, settled.

What I have changed my mind about

A few beliefs I held in 2009, when I moved to New York, that the last seventeen years have quietly killed.

I used to think renting was throwing money away. My mother, who grew up in Pittsburgh in the 1960s, has, since 2009, told me approximately once per year that I am "throwing money away" by renting. My mother bought her first house in 1986 for $89,000. The house is, in 2026, worth approximately $420,000. My mother is, by her own accounting, correct about the equity. My mother is, by my own accounting, not correct about the rent. The rent is not "thrown away." The rent is, by every honest calculation, the price of not having a $1.4 million mortgage.

I used to think I would buy a New York apartment by 35. I planned, in 2009, to save $200,000 by 2015 and buy a studio in the East Village for $450,000. I had, by 2015, saved $48,000. The studio was, in 2015, $725,000. The savings were, in 2015, 6.6% of the buy-in. The plan was, by 2015, dead. The plan is, in 2026, a memory.

I used to think a mortgage was cheaper than rent. The mortgage on a $1.4 million apartment, in 2026, is approximately $9,300 per month. The rent on the equivalent apartment, in 2026, is $5,400 per month. The difference is $3,900 per month. The difference is, by every calculation I have run, $46,800 per year. The difference is, by my standard, the single largest financial decision of my adult life.

I used to think real estate always appreciates. The 2008 housing crash was, in my memory, a single news cycle. The 2022 housing correction, in Brooklyn specifically, was, by The New York Times's own reporting, a 7% drop in median sale prices between Q1 2022 and Q1 2024. The 7% drop was, on a $1.4 million apartment, a $98,000 loss. Real estate in New York has, over the past twenty years, appreciated at an average of 4.5% per year, net of inflation. The 4.5% is, by my standard, less than the S&P 500's 10.5% over the same period.

I used to think "forever renting" was a failure. The phrase "forever renting" was, by every magazine I read in 2018, a phrase of despair. The phrase is, by every financial planner I have spoken to since 2022, a phrase of math. The math is, in 2026, the math.

What to skip when deciding to rent or buy

If I were advising a friend in 2026 who was deciding whether to rent or buy in New York, I would tell them to skip these arguments entirely.

"Rent is throwing money away." Skip this argument. Rent is, by every honest calculation, the price of optionality. Optionality is, in a volatile housing market, valuable. The argument is, by my standard, the most expensive piece of financial folk wisdom in modern America.

"You should own something." Skip this argument. Owning something is, by my standard, the goal of a different era. The goal in 2026 is, by every personal finance book I have read, to own assets. The assets do not have to be the apartment you live in.

"The mortgage interest deduction." Skip this argument. The mortgage interest deduction was, in 1986, a meaningful tax benefit. The mortgage interest deduction in 2026, after the 2017 Tax Cuts and Jobs Act capped the deduction at $750,000 of mortgage debt, is, by every accountant I have spoken to, mostly irrelevant for a New York buy-in.

"Real estate always appreciates." Skip this argument. Real estate in New York has, in twenty years, appreciated at 4.5% net of inflation. The S&P 500 has, in twenty years, appreciated at 10.5%. The argument is, by every honest accounting, wrong.

"You'll build equity." Skip this argument. You will build equity, on a $1.4 million mortgage, at $9,300 per month, of which approximately $1,100 per month is principal in year one. The equity in year one is $13,200. The rent you did not pay, at $5,400 per month, is $64,800. The $64,800 invested in an S&P 500 index fund at 10.5% returns, after ten years, is approximately $1,400,000. The argument is, by my standard, the worst argument in the entire real estate conversation.

Your parents' advice. Skip this argument. Your parents bought in 1986 for $89,000. Your parents are, in 2026, correct about the equity. Your parents are not, in 2026, correct about the math.

"Renting is for people who can't afford to buy." Skip this argument. Renting is, in 2026, a financial strategy. The strategy is, by every personal finance book on my shelf, valid.

A brief history

The "renter's market" of New York was, by every historian I have read, the original market. Until the post-war housing boom of 1945-1970, the standard New Yorker rented. The New York apartment building was, by 1950s standards, built to rent. The 1945-1970 boom produced, by every measure, the first wave of New York homeownership: the Stuyvesant Town co-op (1943), the Mitchell-Lama program (1955), the first wave of condo conversions (1970s).

The 1980s was, by every measure, the first generation of New Yorkers who bought. The 1986 mortgage interest rate was, by historical standards, around 10%. The 1986 median sale price for a Manhattan apartment was, by The New York Times's own historical data, $285,000. The 1986 renter was, by every measurement, the loser of the 1980s real estate cycle. The 1986 buyer was, by every measurement, the winner.

The 2026 New York market is, by every measure, a different market. The median sale price for a Manhattan apartment in 2024 was, by The New York Times, $1,200,000. The median rent in Manhattan in 2024 was, by the same source, $4,500. The mortgage on a $1,200,000 apartment, at the 2026 rate of 7%, is approximately $8,000 per month. The rent is $4,500. The buy-in is, in 2026, 1.78x the annual rent. The historical buy-in-to-rent ratio in New York, from 1986 to 2008, was, on average, 12x. The ratio today is, by every standard, the highest in New York history.

The 2026 New York renter is, by every calculation I have run, the winner of the next decade.

The honest summary

A New York apartment is, in the end, a math problem. The math, in 2026, favors the renter. The math, in 1986, favored the buyer. The math changes, by every generation, with the rate, the price, the rent, and the alternative investment return.

What works for me: renting a $5,400 per month apartment in Cobble Hill, investing the $3,900 per month difference between rent and mortgage in an S&P 500 index fund, and treating the next decade as the experiment. The $3,900 per month, invested at 10.5%, is approximately $800,000 over ten years. The $800,000 is, by my standard, the buy-in I am deferring.

What does not work for me, and may not work for you: the idea that renting is a temporary stage. The renting is, in 2026, the strategy. The strategy is, by every honest calculation, the math.

Seventeen years in, I have paid approximately $380,000 in rent. I have, in the same seventeen years, saved approximately $290,000 in investments. The net cost of renting is, in 2026, $90,000. The net cost of buying, in the same seventeen years, would have been $1.4 million. The math is, by any honest accounting, settled. The math is also, in the end, the only thing that matters.