“I’m Terrified I’ll Be Homeless When My Husband Stops Working”
A Reality Too Many Canadians Live With Quietly
“I’m sick of reading how many millions everyone has.”
That line, from a recent MarketWatch advice column, landed hard because it cuts through the noise. Not because it’s dramatic. Because it’s familiar.
The writer is retired. Her husband is 76 and still working. They have roughly $100,000 saved. A mortgage they’re still paying. A house that’s too big, too costly to repair, and too complicated to leave. Four dogs. And a constant fear of what happens when the income finally stops.
This isn’t recklessness.
This isn’t laziness.
This is the lived reality for far more Canadians than our public conversations ever reflect.
Housing is supposed to mean stability. For many aging Canadians, it’s become a source of fear, uncertainty, and hard decisions. A candid look and financial risk
The Gap Between “Success” and Security
We are surrounded by stories of wealth. Early retirement. Investment portfolios. Multiple properties. Passive income.
What we hear far less about are the people who did what they were told to do. Worked for decades. Paid their bills. Raised families. Contributed to their communities. And still feel one major repair, one illness, or one lost paycheque away from instability.
Many Canadians live in an uncomfortable middle:
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Too asset-rich to qualify for meaningful assistance
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Too cash-poor to feel safe
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Too proud or exhausted to ask for help
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Too invisible to show up in policy discussions
This is not failure. It is structural.
When Homeownership Becomes a Source of Fear
For older Canadians especially, the family home is both their greatest asset and their greatest worry.
Downsizing is not simple once you factor in land transfer tax, moving costs, and the lack of suitable housing options. Aging in place sounds ideal until maintenance, energy costs, or accessibility issues pile up. Selling feels risky when rents are higher than the mortgage payments used to be.
Housing is supposed to mean stability. For many, it becomes a countdown.
What I See in My Work Every Day
As a real estate agent, I work closely with aging homeowners, adult children in the sandwich generation, widows, caregivers, and families quietly holding things together.
These conversations are rarely about “maximizing value.” They’re about fear, responsibility, and timing. About not wanting to uproot a parent. About worrying whether a home will still work two or five years from now. About trying to make decisions that balance care, dignity, and financial reality.
Often, people come to me not knowing what question to ask yet. They just know something feels fragile.
This is not transactional work. It’s deeply human. And it’s why housing decisions need to be approached with patience, clarity, and care.
Financial Insecurity Isn’t a Competition
One of the most important reminders from the advice column was this: financial insecurity is not a competitive sport.
You don’t need to be destitute to be scared.
You don’t need to be homeless to feel unstable.
You don’t need to compare your situation to someone else’s to justify concern.
Fear doesn’t disappear just because someone else has it worse.
Why This Matters to You
If this story resonates, it’s not because you’re behind. It’s because you’re paying attention.
Most people don’t fall into financial or housing insecurity suddenly. They arrive there through delayed conversations and unexamined assumptions, especially around ageing, caregiving, and the family home.
Here’s the practical truth most people are never told:
The biggest risk isn’t making the wrong decision. It’s waiting until the number of available options has already shrunk.
Before income changes.
Before health forces urgency.
Before the house becomes a burden instead of a safety net.
This is why I founded Canadian Women’s Investment Network™ (Canadian WIN™). Not to sell solutions, but to encourage earlier, more informed conversations while choice still exists.
Financial literacy isn’t about perfection. It’s about understanding trade-offs early enough to decide on your own terms. Housing isn’t just an asset. It’s the framework around independence, caregiving, and stability.
If you take one thing from this:
Map your “what ifs” before you need them. Ask what happens if work stops, health changes, or housing costs rise. Not because crisis is inevitable, but because clarity is protective.
That awareness, done early, is one of the few advantages anyone can still give themselves
