By the time Suzie Payne celebrated her 40th birthday, she had come to a reluctant yet resolute acceptance of what had once seemed unthinkable: she might never own a home of her own. For years, she had watched her peers glide through their thirties checking off that quintessential benchmark of adulthood—purchasing property—often bolstered by generous financial assistance from their families. Payne’s circumstances, however, were markedly different. As a single mother raising a daughter while juggling work and constant living expenses in Portland, Oregon, she found saving for a down payment extraordinarily difficult. Long before the pandemic altered the economy, the housing market in Portland already felt unattainable, its prices accelerating far faster than her modest income could match. When she ultimately lost her job, her priorities shifted abruptly from aspirations of stability to the immediate concern of making ends meet. Even when mortgage rates plunged during the summer of 2020, beckoning countless Americans into open houses, Payne could focus only on necessities like groceries and rent—not on real estate listings.
Yet change came in 2021, when Payne made a bold move to Philadelphia. Compared with the daunting prices of the Pacific Northwest, the City of Brotherly Love offered what felt like a flicker of possibility. Modest rowhomes—those century-old brick structures that line so many of Philadelphia’s streets—were still selling for just over $200,000, a price miraculously within her reach. With renewed hope, she secured a new job, sought professional guidance through first-time homebuyer classes, and discovered that she qualified for a mortgage far larger than she had ever anticipated. By the summer of 2024, buoyed by optimism and newly equipped with professional support, Payne partnered with a real estate agent and successfully placed a winning bid on a home. She was 42 years old when her offer was approved.
Although Payne characterizes her experience as “non-conventional,” her story embodies a broader transformation sweeping across the American housing market: today’s first-time homebuyers are noticeably older than in any previous era. Two decades ago, purchasing a first home in one’s early thirties was entirely ordinary. Now, Payne’s timeline aligns perfectly with new patterns revealed by recent data from the National Association of Realtors (NAR). Between the middle of 2024 and mid-2025, the median age of first-time homebuyers climbed to an unprecedented 40 years old, while the overall median age for all buyers hit a record-setting 59—an astonishing leap from 47 in 2019.
This trend has been developing for years. Buyers with deeper pockets, typically older individuals, have proven far more capable of weathering the dual burdens of escalating home prices and surging borrowing costs. Generation X and baby boomers remain active stakeholders in the real estate market, continuing to compete aggressively for available properties, while the proportion of first-time purchasers has declined dramatically. The generational divide has never appeared more pronounced. This delay in ownership carries profound long-term implications, limiting younger generations’ opportunities to build wealth, relocate freely, or redefine what the concept of a “starter home” even means. In this new reality, the so-called “geriatric homebuyer” is no longer an anomaly—it has become emblematic of the age we live in.
Historically, the contrast is striking. When the NAR first began tracking data in 1981, the average first-time buyer was a youthful 29. Over the next four decades, that figure crept up only slightly, never rising above 33. Then, between mid-2021 and mid-2022, it surged to 36 in a single year. Many observers attributed the sudden jump to catch-up behavior among “elder millennials,” those who had stumbled into adulthood during the economic wreckage of the Great Recession and had long been labeled financial late bloomers. But even they struggled beneath the weight of skyrocketing prices and interest rates that had more than doubled. A millennial home-seeker at the time summed up the despair succinctly and grimly: “We’re royally screwed.”
In the years since, conditions have deteriorated further. According to the NAR, first-time purchasers accounted for only 21% of home sales last year—a record low and roughly half of the historical average. Jessica Lautz, the NAR’s deputy chief economist, explains that an entire generation of young adults is essentially being shut out of homeownership, trapped by market stagnation that has made entry-level homes increasingly scarce and unaffordable. Replacing them is a wave of “repeat buyers”—individuals purchasing additional homes, often in later life—whose median age has soared to 62, another all-time high. Nearly one-third of these repeat buyers paid entirely in cash, giving them a powerful advantage in negotiations with sellers who view cash deals as quicker and less uncertain. Across all transactions, cash accounted for 26% of purchases, setting yet another record.
Real estate agents across the country are witnessing this frustration firsthand. In Massachusetts, broker Peggy Pratt of Century 21 North East observes the uphill battle younger clients face when burdened by student loans and ever-climbing rental costs. Half her business comes from first-time buyers, yet those who succeed almost invariably rely on parental support. Without family wealth, she explains, many feel the economy itself is conspiring against them. On the opposite end of the housing spectrum, Compass agent Suzy Minken, who works in New Jersey and northern Virginia, notes that her clients rarely view purchases as transitional. The notion of a “starter home” has all but disappeared; instead, buyers wait to find a property they can imagine occupying for decades. According to NAR data, homeowners who sold in the past year had lived in their houses for a median of 11 years—another historical record. “Move-up buyers,” Minken says, “are practically extinct. Most people I’ve sold to over the years simply stay put.”
This collective immobility contributes to what analysts describe as market gridlock. First-time buyers desperately need turnover to unlock opportunities: when existing owners trade up, their vacated homes typically serve as entry points for beginners. Yet since mortgage rates spiked, millions who locked in historically low rates during the pandemic now hesitate to sell, unwilling to sacrifice favorable financing. Unless rates fall or circumstances force a move, these homeowners will remain stationary. The ripple effect is significant—by the time newcomers manage to buy their first properties, many have already reached other major life milestones, such as starting families, reducing the incentive to move later.
Admittedly, buying later in life offers certain advantages. Individuals approaching middle age often enjoy higher earning power, clearer priorities, and a more stable sense of where they want to live. But the tradeoffs are severe. Delaying ownership means forgoing years of potential equity growth and financial security. As Lautz explains, homes typically gain around 5% in value annually; purchasing a decade later than previous generations can cost the average person roughly $150,000 in missed wealth accumulation—money that could otherwise contribute to college tuition, a subsequent property, or essential home improvements. “We are witnessing a constraint on generational wealth,” Lautz warns, highlighting how the consequences may reverberate for decades.
For Payne, the obstacles did not end with that first accepted offer. Around the same time, her daughter experienced a medical crisis, forcing her to withdraw from the purchase altogether. Months later, in March, she tried again and briefly succeeded—until rising economic uncertainty, prompted by looming tariffs and a troubling home inspection report, convinced her to walk away once more. “I just couldn’t do it,” Payne confided. “The whole process is emotional, overwhelming, and frightening when you’re the only financial provider managing such a huge investment.”
Her story encapsulates a generation’s uncertainty. Across the country, buyers are backing out of contracts more frequently, wary of locking themselves into commitments that could become burdensome if economic conditions worsen. Many Americans, regardless of age, are pausing major life changes out of financial caution. For Payne, homeownership is not about speculation or wealth—it represents the hope of lasting stability, the dream of never again facing a landlord’s sudden rent increase. Yet for the moment, she has decided to wait. “It has to be the right conditions,” she says simply. “And right now, it doesn’t feel like those conditions exist.”
Her hesitation embodies the delicate balance facing countless would-be homeowners in today’s market: the longing for security weighed against the fear of financial vulnerability. As this new era of older, cautious first-time buyers unfolds, it forces America to reconsider not just the economics of housing, but also the evolving meaning of home itself.
Sourse: https://www.businessinsider.com/millennial-first-time-homebuyers-real-estate-disappearing-losing-baby-boomers-2025-11
