Your choices, your consequences. I made a decision to buy a condo in Miami during the pandemic housing frenzy, and I had to live with every consequence of that choice. What followed was a hellish, years-long saga that tested my sanity, finances, and patience. I’m sharing this cautionary tale for anyone considering a condo purchase in Miami (or anywhere with a powerful HOA) - learn from my mistakes, and proceed with caution!

I don’t regret why I wanted to buy - I believed the world was overreacting to COVID-19 and that the housing market would recover quickly. In many ways I was right: the pandemic-era housing boom sent Florida real estate prices soaring (some cities saw condo values jump 60-80% from 2019 to mid-2022)[1]. Ultra-low interest rates (near 3% in 2021[2]) and stimulus money (“ZIRP” - zero-interest-rate policy - free money) helped fuel a buying frenzy. Florida’s population swelled as remote workers and retirees flocked in; the state added over a million households from 2019-2023, driving rents up nearly 40%[3]. I wanted to catch that wave. But how you ride the wave matters - and I made every mistake in the book.

Let my story be a warning about rushing into a condo purchase, ignoring red flags, and underestimating the power (and incompetence) of a bad HOA.

Buying: Pandemic Fever and a Rush of Blood to the Wallet

I had spent 2020-21 itching to buy my first home. With the world on lockdown, I saw opportunity. Unlike the Spanish Flu era of a century ago, we now have instant information and advanced technology to adapt quickly - I felt the pandemic panic would subside faster than people expected. Being young and healthy, I wasn’t overly worried about COVID personally, and I suspected the economic recovery would be swift once the initial shock passed. In hindsight, my thesis wasn’t entirely wrong - the housing market exploded in 2021. Florida real estate went bonkers; condo prices in some cities (like Tampa) jumped ~70% in three years[1]. Miami started appearing in headlines for record price growth and an influx of out-of-state buyers.

I nearly bought a house in my hometown Jacksonville, Florida, during that time and was talked out of it. In retrospect, that would have been a great investment - Jacksonville home prices shot up and only started cooling off in late 2024[4]. But as 2021 rolled into 2022, my sights shifted to Miami. I visited the city and fell in love with the vibrant culture, the sunshine, and the Biscayne Bay views. So when I found a bargain condo in downtown Miami (zip code 33132) with a direct bay view - the cheapest unit in that zip code at the time - I jumped on it thinking with a low price, there was little I could lose. This was a small studio in an older high-rise. The low price felt like fate, and I was eager to act fast. The date was January 2022, and I sensed the market heating up even more.

Mistake #1: Rushing and ignoring context. I was in such a hurry to beat the market that I failed to realize why Miami’s housing was on fire: those rock-bottom interest rates were about to vanish. The Federal Reserve was signaling rate hikes. Instead of leveraging the cheap debt while it lasted, I panicked about a minor bump in my mortgage rate due to a late $50 credit card payment on my record. Rather than accepting a slightly higher interest rate, I idiotically decided to pay cash for the condo. In early 2022, 30-year mortgage rates were still around 3.5-4%[2]; by 2023 they’d skyrocket to ~7%[2]. I should have taken advantage of the low-rate era to finance a better property. By paying cash, I sunk a huge chunk of my savings into a tiny studio - a critical liquidity mistake I’d later regret.

Mistake #2: Buying a condo without due diligence. Condos, especially in Miami, are tricky. Many have aggressive homeowners associations (HOAs) with steep fees, and older buildings often hide expensive problems. I thought I knew what I was doing after my house-hunting in Jacksonville, but a condo is a different beast. In my haste, I ignored numerous red flags about this building: upcoming special assessments (big one-time fees for repairs/upgrades) were mentioned in the listing, and the monthly HOA fee was already an eye-watering $700 for a studio. For context, the median Miami condo fee is around $835 (the highest in the nation)[5], and mine was for the smallest unit type with minimal amenities. I convinced myself that even if there were assessments, the total fees wouldn’t exceed ~$1,000/month - “surely the other owners would riot if it went higher,” I laughed to myself. (Oh, how wrong I was.)

I waived or skimmed over things I should have investigated. The condo was being sold “as-is,” and I hired a property inspector recommended by a family member without vetting his expertise. He turned out to be a clown - he missed critical issues like faulty electrical wiring and even failed to locate the AC air handler hidden in the ceiling and skipped over broken segments in the walls. But I was equally at fault; I treated the inspection as a formality. My realtor (also a well-meaning family referral) wasn’t very proactive either. None of us caught that the pool repair timelines were overly optimistic or that the building’s 40-year recertification (a mandatory structural safety inspection in Miami-Dade for aging buildings) was coming due soon - a harbinger of massive expense[6][7].

So many warning signs - and I blew past them all. The HOA board frankly seemed disorganized and opaque (first hint of trouble), but I naively took the seller’s and tenant’s word that everything was fine. The pool? “Oh, it’ll be fixed soon,” they said. Upcoming assessment? “Probably just something small for improvements.” I even noticed another condo nearby fixing its pool deck, which oddly reassured me that my building’s pool closure was normal and temporary.

Thus, armed with overconfidence and FOMO, I closed on the condo in March 2022 - in cash, in a rush, and in ignorance. I was now a proud Miami condo owner… for better or (as it turned out) for worse. And almost immediately, things started to go downhill.

Moving In: The Nightmare Unfolds

Since the condo had a tenant on a lease when I bought it, I decided to let them finish their last two months (through April 2022) before I moved in. I figured I’d collect a bit of rent and then take occupancy myself and renovate. Those two months foreshadowed everything that was about to go wrong.

Just a couple weeks after closing, the tenant called me, panicked about roaches coming out of the walls. The unit was infested. I paid for professional fumigation, wondering how the place had passed even a basic inspection. The roaches kept coming back. We eventually discovered the source: the unit next door was vacant, with a long-unfixed water leak, and had essentially become a roach breeding ground. It got so bad that water was seeping into the hallway and attracting pests, prompting a visit from the police (yes, the police) to investigate. And what did my lovely HOA do about it? Absolutely nothing. They shrugged off the issue, leaving me and other residents to suffer. This was my rude introduction to how incompetent and unresponsive the condo management could be.

Around the same time, I got a message from the owner living in the unit directly below mine. They complained about water leaking from their ceiling, allegedly coming from my bathroom above. My unit wasn’t showing any leaks - everything in my bathroom was dry. I immediately hired a plumber to check if any of my pipes were leaking; they found nothing. I informed the HOA and asked if they could help investigate (in case the leak was in the building’s plumbing lines or walls). The HOA flatly refused to get involved, insisting it was a private matter. The downstairs neighbor became hostile, threatening to hold me responsible for mold damages and demanding I pay for mitigation. Mind you, I had literally just bought the place; if a leak existed, it likely pre-dated me. I wanted to help, but with no evidence the problem was mine and no support from the building, I was stuck. The neighbor’s threats (mold lawsuits can be very expensive) and the HOA’s indifference sent my anxiety through the roof. I was starting to realize I’d bought into a nightmare building.

In my growing paranoia, I went so far as to set up a liability shield - I created an LLC to put the condo under that company’s ownership to protect my other assets and consulted with lawyers on how to best protect my personal assets, just in case. Maybe that was an overreaction, maybe not, but I felt I had to protect myself from my own home. Think about how absurd that is: I had owned this condo for barely a month, and I already felt under siege by pests, potential lawsuits, and a negligent HOA.

When the tenant’s lease finally ended, I geared up to move into the unit myself and start fixing it up. Little did I know, even moving in would turn into an ordeal. In this building, you can’t just show up with a moving truck - you have to reserve the service elevator in advance, with the HOA. Fine. I dutifully made a reservation nearly a month ahead for a specific date and time. My moving day arrives: I show up with a U-Haul, and… no elevator access. The front desk casually tells me, “Oh, there’s construction using the service elevator today. Your reservation doesn’t matter.” I was dumbfounded. I had to beg just to get my furniture up to my floor, essentially sneaking in between construction loads whenever possible.

At one point I had a new bed delivered, and the building staff turned away the delivery because they claimed the box was “too big” for the elevator. (It wasn’t - I measured, and it later fit easily after I had it redilviered after HOA business hours) I ended up having to carry things in piece by piece. By the time I finally set up my new home, I was exhausted and furious. Welcome home!

On the bright side, the place did have its perks once I settled in. The view of Biscayne Bay from my window was stunning, and the location was fantastic - I could walk to cafes and parks, and I loved the Miami lifestyle in general. For a brief moment, I thought, “Maybe I can make this work.” I threw myself into my remote work and tried to enjoy the studio life in the heart of Miami.

But the honeymoon was extremely short-lived. Over the next two years (mid-2022 through 2024), I got hit with a tsunami of expenses and headaches from the HOA and the building’s deteriorating infrastructure:

• Special Assessments Galore: Remember that “upcoming assessment” I willfully ignored when buying? It arrived with friends, one after another. First was an assessment to replace all the balcony railings (a safety requirement). Then another for the 40-year recertification work - structural and electrical upgrades mandated by the county (and recently tightened laws after the Surfside condo collapse)[6][7]. Then we got a notice of a third special assessment to cover some budget shortfall (who knows what). These were five-figure charges per unit, which the HOA offered to let us pay in installments (with interest) over several years. On top of that, our regular HOA dues went up and up, largely because insurance premiums in Florida had exploded (Florida home insurance costs doubled from 2020-2023[8] after a string of storm losses and new insurance regulations). The building’s insurance bill was sky-high, and they passed that to us owners[9][10]. We also lost a lot of economies of scale as some fellow owners stopped paying and went into foreclosure, meaning fewer people to shoulder the growing costs. By 2023, my monthly HOA fee - for a studio apartment - had ballooned from $700 to about $1,600 (including the payment plans for those special assessments). That was more than double the original fee, and frankly more than the rent for many larger apartments! It’s not just me: across Miami, many older condos have seen fees skyrocket since 2021, often jumping 50-100% practically overnight[11][12]. Special assessments to catch up on decades of deferred maintenance can top $100k per unit in extreme cases[6] - We owners were basically being treated like walking checkbooks, asked to pay for decades of neglect all at once.
• Broken Amenities and Infrastructure: Remember the pool that was “being fixed soon”? It never reopened and is broken to this day. So we paid premium fees for zero amenities - no pool, and a tiny outdated gym. Meanwhile, basic systems were failing. The elevators broke down constantly (getting stuck or just out of service for days). The building’s air conditioning chiller and plumbing lines had leaks; on multiple occasions the A/C condensate lines above my ceiling clogged and dripped water into my unit. I had to put buckets in my kitchen when it rained hard because water would seep in through the old windows. It was like the building was falling apart in slow motion, and every patch job or delay just led to more damage later (and presumably, more assessments to come).
• HOA Power Trips: The worst part of all was dealing with the HOA management, who behaved more like tyrants than customer service. Example: one summer day my window frame was leaking hot air overpowering my AC, so I called a repair technician to come take a look. This was a minor interior repair - I wasn’t altering anything structural. Well, I failed to realize the HOA had a rule that any outside contractor must be approved in advance. They found out a tech had been up to my unit and, without warning, deactivated my electronic key fob, effectively locking me out of my own building. When I went to the management office, they scolded me for breaking procedure. I explained it was an emergency fix and no one told me I needed permission to have a window guy come. After some groveling, getting scolded, and shwoing proof of insurance, they grudgingly turned my access back on.

It gets worse. Another time, over the Christmas holiday, I had a close friend visiting from out of town. I lent him my key fob so he could go nearby and grab some food (since the elevators required the fob to operate). Big mistake. The front desk saw a “non-resident” using my fob and reported it. The HOA disabled my access again, citing “security policy.” When I discovered I was locked out, I was livid. Marching to the office, I demanded an explanation. The manager actually had the gall to say, “Because it’s Christmas, we will show you mercy and reactivate your fob this time.” Mercy! As if they were doing me a favor by letting me back into the home I own and for which I was paying $1,600 a month in fees. I have never felt such rage and humiliation. The experience of being treated like a delinquent child by a bureaucrat who controlled access to my own property was the final straw. By that point, sometime in late 2024, I knew I had to get out of this situation at all costs. My mental health was in shambles; I would literally have nightmares about HOA board meetings and surprise fee hikes. It was time to sell - easier said than done.

Selling: Escape from Condo Hell (Almost)

I decided in early 2025 that I would sell the condo and cut my losses. The Miami market by then had cooled significantly from the 2021 frenzy. In fact, by mid-2025 the condo market was slumping - nationally, condo prices were down and Florida was the epicenter of the drop[13]. Redfin reported that in 2025 there were roughly 80% more condo sellers than buyers in the market, because many owners were desperate to offload units due to soaring HOA fees and hefty assessments[14]. Buyers, understandably, were hesitant to wade into such properties. My unit was a poster child for why: anyone who looked at the listing would see a laundry list of assessments and a sky-high monthly fee. I was about to find out just how hard selling would be.

Initially, I tried to sell it on my own (FSBO - For Sale By Owner) to save on commission. I even went as far as getting my real estate license, thinking I could list it on the MLS myself and control the process. I joined a brokerage that offered discount commission splits. This ended up being a distraction - without real experience, it was hard to navigate, and time was ticking. So I reverted to FSBO and listed the unit January 2025, about 10% than the next cheapest unit in 33132, which was already a $20k reduction from what my last agent had tried.

I did get a lot of inquiries - curious investors, first-time buyers looking for a foothold in Miami, etc. But almost everyone, after a little research, ran for the hills when they learned the HOA was ~$1,160/mo even after the seller pays off the assessments at close. I can’t blame them; who wants an endless money pit? I received a couple of lowball offers (one investor offered 25% under ask - basically pricing the unit as if it were a liability, not an asset). I declined those, hoping to find a buyer who understood the long-term value (the location is great, and maybe someday the building will fully repair itself). Living in a staged-for-sale studio with my new wife and a cat was also incredibly stressful. We had to keep the place immaculate 24/7, ready for random showings, all while working from home in that small space. Tensions were high.

Finally, after a few months, I got an offer that was near my asking price. It was Spring 2025, and a young couple expressed interest. We negotiated a bit and came to an agreement. I was thrilled - it looked like I was about to escape. We even signed a contract. But my celebration was premature. After the contract was executed, the buyer and realtor went radio-silent. Their realtor wouldn’t respond to calls or emails. Days passed with no communication, leaving me bewildered. Eventually I got a terse message (only after contacting the brokerage’s office) that the buyers had spoken with the HOA office and decided to back out. No specific reason given - and since we were still in the “inspection/HOA review” period, they could walk with no penalty. I asked, what exactly did the HOA tell them? Again, silence. The buyers ghosted us completely.

I was furious and panicked - what did the HOA do to sabotage my sale? I suspected it was related to new information that I, ironically, also learned only after listing: the HOA was planning yet another special assessment (a fourth one!) to replace all the old sliding glass balcony doors starting in 2026, and also a sizeable increase in the base HOA fees for the next year despite still having no functional pool. This meant there was no end in sight to the bleeding. When I found that out, I understood why the buyer ran. Even I would have second thoughts about buying this place now, and I already owned it!

Now I was basically in crisis mode. It was summer 2025, and I knew the longer I held on, the worse it could get (the market wasn’t improving, and new fees were coming). I swallowed my pride, hired a professional realtor (paying full commission), and dropped the price by another \$40k in June 2025, hoping to entice a cash buyer quickly. My wife and I actually moved out of the condo at this point and started traveling and enjoying our summer in Airbnbs abroad - we didn’t want to sign a new lease elsewhere yet (in case we needed to return), but we also needed to be out of that nightmare environment for our sanity.

For a couple of months, nothing happened. Then, in August 2025, a ray of hope: we got an offer at our new asking price. This time it was an all-cash buyer, supposedly a wealthy individual who wanted a pied-à-terre in Miami. My realtor vetted that they had the funds. Importantly, he also said, “Don’t worry - with cash and their profile, the HOA should approve them no problem. I’m 99% sure this will go through.” Famous last words.

Just when I thought the nightmare was ending, the HOA played its final boss move. In our building, like many condos, any buyer must go through an HOA approval process (background check, interview, and financial vetting). Despite the buyer’s cash wealth, the HOA rejected the buyer’s application. We were stunned. On what grounds? The HOA began ghosting us and went readio silent. They even turned away the buyer’s realtor in person saying they were too busy and that the decision was final.

After contacting many different people, we eventually learned the reason: the buyer was a foreign national with most of their assets overseas, and the HOA board was paranoid that if the person ever defaulted on the HOA fees, it would be hard to enforce a lien or collect from assets abroad. This was, to put it mildly, a ridiculous rationale. The condo unit itself is collateral - if an owner doesn’t pay fees, the HOA can ultimately foreclose on the unit (and Florida law provides for that). The buyer even offered to pay a year of fees upfront. But the board was uncomfortable with the idea that a “foreign” owner might be hard to sue. This felt borderline xenophobic and possibly illegal (it’s likely a violation of Fair Housing Act to discriminate based on national origin or where someone’s money comes from). In fact, some condo boards have been creating all kinds of hurdles lately - e.g. many boards won’t allow buyers using FHA loans[15], or they impose special requirements - and it’s been limiting sales in the condo market. In my case, the board was essentially saying “no foreigners unless they have American liquidity that we can seize.”

My buyer, understandably, was about to walk away from this insult. My heart sank; I could see my escape closing off again. I wasn’t going down without a fight, though. I managed to get contact info for one of the HOA board members (the president) and sent a polite but desperate email, basically pleading the buyer’s case and asking why they were rejected. It took multiple emails and phone calls (they initially dodged me, which is infuriating when you’re an owner in the building), but finally I got a response. The board stood by their reasoning - they just didn’t feel comfortable because the buyer’s proof of funds were from a foreign bank and they “had no recourse” if the person skipped town. After some back-and-forth, the board grudgingly offered a compromise: they would approve the buyer on conditions. The conditions were that the buyer had to pay one full year of HOA fees in advance and deposit a sizable cashier’s check as a security, and and sign an agreement acknowledging the upcoming new assessment and accepting that their HOA fees would be going up yet again in 2026. In other words, the buyer had to practically bend over backwards to appease this HOA - all for the privilege of buying into this building. It was insane, and yet, at this point nothing about this journey surprised me.

The buyer was still interested, but these conditions gave them pause. To sweeten the deal, I agreed to credit the buyer sizably at closing to cover part of those inconveniences. We finally got the green light: the sale was approved and moving to closing in September 2025.

On the day of closing, I braced for any last sucker punch. And wouldn’t you know - when I got the final settlement statement, the HOA provided an updated payoff for my outstanding special assessment loans, and it was roughly \$3,000 higher than the figure I had from just a few months prior. To this day I have no idea why (maybe interest accrual, maybe a new small charge added). At that point, I did not even argue. I signed the papers, handed over whatever they asked, and exhaled for what felt like the first time in years. It was over. I had gotten out of Miami condo hell.

Financially, the outcome was sobering. I sold the condo for about \$75,000 more than I bought it for in 2022, which sounds like a great profit - but I barely broke even. All those special assessments I paid (or had to pay off at closing), the closing costs, realtor commissions, “incentives” to the buyer, and repairs I sunk money into… it all evaporated the paper gains. In the end, I essentially got back my initial purchase price in net proceeds. Three years of stress, tens of thousands of dollars tied up, endless hours dealing with problems - and almost nothing to show for it except some hard lessons. It was beyond humbling.

And yet, I feel relieved. Sometimes breaking even is a victory - especially when the alternative is staying and potentially losing even more (or your sanity). Could I have rented out the unit and tried to ride out the assessments? Possibly - rents in Miami had skyrocketed (nearly 40% in recent years)[3], and I probably could’ve covered the baseline costs by finding a tenant. But renting wouldn’t cover the future special assessments coming down the pike, nor would it remove the constant liability and stress of being an owner in that building. Florida’s housing market in late 2025 is looking shaky for condos - there’s a glut of units for sale and prices are dropping in many areas[13][14]. Miami’s skyline is full of cranes building new luxury towers and apartments; I suspect we may see an Austin-like overbuilding effect where rents and prices soften as all that supply hits (Austin, TX condo prices plunged ~22% from their peak because of a boom in new construction[16]). With so many new beautiful Miami projects approved, I didn’t want to be stuck holding the bag on an old condo that might never fully be repaired or recover value.

As for the HOA and building? I wouldn’t be shocked if some investor or developer eventually swoops in to buy out units cheap once enough owners are fed up. It’s happened elsewhere: older waterfront buildings in prime locations become so untenable that a developer offers to buy everyone out (at a discount) to tear-down or renovate. Industry experts have noted that many older Florida condos facing massive repair bills are seeing waves of sales and even developer interest[17]. In our case, I sometimes cynically wonder if the HOA board was intentionally tough, hoping to shake out owners so that, after we “bloodbags” paid for all the critical repairs, they or their friends could snatch up units on the cheap. Who knows. All I know is I’m out of there.

I walked away with my principal (and a trove of life lessons), and I’m now happily putting that money into my own business - something I have far more control over than a condo board. The experience did scar me, though. Let’s just say I have serious trust issues with HOAs now (HOA PTSD is real!). I will be extremely cautious about ever buying into a condo or HOA community again, especially in Florida.

Lessons Learned (So You Don’t Have to)

To end on a constructive note, here are the biggest takeaways from my Miami condo fiasco. I hope these nuggets of hard-earned wisdom help you make better decisions than I did:

• Don’t Rush Big Decisions: FOMO is not your friend in real estate. Just because the market is hot doesn’t mean you should throw caution to the wind. Take your time to research the property and building. If a deal feels rushed or you’re being pressured to hurry (even if self-imposed), step back. A “bargain” isn’t a bargain if it comes with hidden nightmares.
• Do Thorough Due Diligence: For condos, read the HOA financial statements, meeting minutes, and_ *reserve studies** before you buy. These documents will often reveal if big repairs or assessments are looming. Ask pointed questions: How old is the roof and mechanical systems? Any past or pending litigation? What’s the 40-year recertification status? (In Florida, new laws require costly inspections at 25-30 years now[18].) If the building has low reserves and deferred maintenance, expect special assessments. Hire a competent inspector and personally attend the inspection. Don’t rely on the seller’s agent or a family friend alone - get an inspector who will crawl into every attic and open every panel. It could save you from huge surprises.
• Beware High HOAs and Special Assessments: An unusually high HOA fee for the unit size/area is a red flag. It could indicate poor management, expensive amenities, or upcoming projects. And HOA fees can skyrocket - Florida condo fees have been rising dramatically since 2021[11]. Insurance costs, in particular, are hitting the roof, causing associations to hike dues[9][10]. Special assessments are the HOA’s way of saying “we don’t have enough saved, so pay up.” If prior owners have been waiving reserve contributions to keep fees low, guess what - you will be the one paying the piper (Florida no longer allows waiving reserves as of 2025, to prevent this very scenario[19]). Hefty assessments can tank your equity or make it impossible to sell[14]. Always account for these costs when budgeting - a condo with “low HOA fees” that doesn’t fund reserves is a ticking time bomb.
• Evaluate HOA Management and Rules: The condo board/management can make or break your living experience. Try to gauge the culture of the HOA before buying. Are they investor-friendly or heavy-handed? Do they have strict rules that might affect your lifestyle (pet restrictions, guest policies, etc.)? Speak to current residents if possible - they’ll tell you if the HOA is reasonable or power-tripping. A confrontational or incompetent HOA can turn homeownership into a nightmare, as I learned. Also, find out if the HOA has the power to approve/deny sales or leases. Many Florida condos do, and they might exercise it arbitrarily (even disallowing certain financing or buyers). This can derail your future plans[15].
• Have an Exit Strategy (and Cushion): Never assume you can easily sell or rent out the condo later. The market can shift. As we saw in 2024-25, condos became much harder to sell than houses because of these exact issues - by mid-2025, condo sales were down over 30% in parts of Florida and inventory hit a 10-year high[13][20]. If you buy, have a financial cushion for emergencies and a Plan B if living there becomes untenable. Don’t sink every last dollar into the purchase (like I did with a cash buy); keep some reserves for unexpected expenses.
• Emotional Check: Be Ready for Surprises: Home ownership isn’t just a financial endeavor, it’s an emotional one. Especially in a shared building, expect the unexpected - neighbors can bring roaches, pipes can leak from places outside your control, the HOA might spring new rules on you, etc. If you’re someone who values autonomy, remember that a condo means shared control (and sometimes, as in my case, feeling like you have none). Know your personality and stress tolerance. It’s cheaper to back out of a bad deal (lose your deposit, or better yet, identify issues during the inspection contingency) than to sign up for years of stress.

Lastly, if you do find yourself in a situation like mine, don’t lose hope. It can feel like you’re trapped, but there’s always a way out - even if it’s just cutting your losses. I emerged with a zero on my balance sheet, but the education was priceless (albeit painful). I’m grateful I got out before things got even worse in that building. I’m also grateful for the experience in one sense: it taught me exactly what to look for (and avoid) in future real estate ventures.

Epilogue: Today, I’m happily reinvesting my time and money into ventures I control, and renting a place with far less stress. Miami is a beautiful city and I’ll cherish the good memories, but I’ll be reading HOA bylaws with a magnifying glass before I ever buy property again. If you’re considering a condo in Miami (or anywhere), I hope my story helps you make a more informed decision - and maybe saves you from a hellish ordeal of your own. Good luck, and remember: your choices, your consequences! Stay safe out there in the real estate jungle.

https://wolfstreet.com/2025/04/22/in-15-bigger-cities-condo-prices-already-10-to-22-5-are-in-florida-with-accelerating-drops-absurdity-comes-unglued/

https://www.bankrate.com/mortgages/historical-mortgage-rates/

[3] Florida rent surges nearly 40% as population boom creates affordability crisis

https://www.fox4now.com/news/local-news/florida-rent-surges-nearly-40-as-population-boom-creates-housing-affordability-crisis

[5] Exorbitant HOA fees force Florida retirees to sell their condos and …

https://finance.yahoo.com/news/t-keep-payments-exorbitant-hoa-120200908.html

[6] [8] [18] After Surfside: New Regulations and Skyrocketing Insurance Premiums Strain Condo Owners - Urban Land Magazine

https://urbanland.uli.org/resilience-and-sustainability/after-surfside-new-regulations-and-skyrocketing-insurance-premiums-strain-condo-owners

[7] [12] [17] Rethinking the Miami Condo Market: Is the Sky Falling? - RiskWire, powered by Veros

https://www.riskwire.com/rethinking-the-miami-condo-market-is-the-sky-falling/

[11] [19] Skyrocketing Condo Fees After Surfside’s Tragic Building Collapse: Why a Life Plan Senior Community May Be a Strategic Alternative - John Knox Village

https://johnknoxvillage.com/skyrocketing-condo-fees-after-surfsides-tragic-collapse-why-a-life-plan-senior-community-may-be-a-strategic-alternative/

[13] [14] [15] [20] Condo Prices Fell 2% in May-the Second Largest Drop on Record

https://www.redfin.com/news/condo-prices-may-2025/