If you’ve ever tried to get a mobile home park under contract, you know it’s an emotional rollercoaster. One minute you’re high on the thrill of negotiating, and the next, you’re curled up in the fetal position wondering where it all went wrong. Kind of like childhood, right? Specifically, a childhood where you were never really loved. Turns out, there’s a connection.
Now, you’re probably wondering how I made that leap—from mobile home parks to childhood trauma—but hear me out. People who grew up without a sense of unconditional love often display seven key behaviors later in life. As a mobile home park investor who’s spent more time on the phone with sellers than with my therapist (though, let’s be honest, that overlap is getting pretty blurry), I’ve noticed a pattern. The behaviors associated with those who didn’t feel truly loved as children map suspiciously well onto the unique challenges of affordable housing investment.
1. Difficulty Forming Meaningful Relationships? Meet the Seller of Your Dreams.
So you think you’ve found the perfect mobile home park, but every conversation with the seller feels like pulling teeth. This isn’t just a business deal; it’s a codependent relationship doomed from the start. You’re emotionally distant because you don’t want to get hurt. The seller is withholding critical information like a high school crush not answering texts. You’re both terrified of commitment, but you’re stuck together in this transactional tango.
It’s not that you don’t want a meaningful relationship with the seller—you just don’t know how. The language of connection is foreign, and all you’ve got is Google Translate open to “How to Emotionally Manipulate a Seller into Lowering the Price.” But there’s hope. Maybe you just need time. Or therapy. Or both.
2. Overemphasis on Self-Reliance, or “I Don’t Need No Due Diligence!”
Ever find yourself saying, “I can handle this whole mobile home park deal on my own”? Yeah, that’s because no one was there for you when you needed help in the past. So you overcompensate. You’ve taught yourself to be independent, to never ask for assistance—even when the plumbing system in that park is more confusing than the plot of Inception.
You’re out there telling yourself you don’t need to hire an inspector, that you can check out the infrastructure with a quick drive-through and maybe a glance at the sewer lines (whatever those are). But here’s the thing: Just like life, you can’t DIY your way through everything. Sure, you can fix a leaky faucet, but can you fix your childhood trauma and the crumbling infrastructure of a mobile home park? Don’t answer that.
3. Sensitivity to Criticism, or Why Your Cap Rate Feels Like a Personal Attack.
So, you get an email from your lender: “Your projected cap rate is way off. This park is overpriced.” Ouch. That feels like a direct hit to the gut, doesn’t it? Sure, the cap rate is just a number, but to you, it’s a symbol of your self-worth. Criticism of your investment feels like criticism of you as a person. Why? Because growing up without that unconditional love made you hyper-sensitive to anything resembling rejection.
Now, instead of calmly reassessing the deal, you’re curled up in the corner wondering if this is why your parents never hugged you. It’s not. But still, criticism stings.
4. Struggling with Self-Worth? Try Getting a Seller to Accept Your Lowball Offer.
Nothing says “I have unresolved issues around self-worth” like the gut-wrenching anxiety that comes from making an offer you know is lower than the seller wants. You’ve done the math, you’ve crunched the numbers, and yet, the moment you hit “send” on that offer email, you’re convinced you’re unworthy of this deal—and probably unworthy of love too, if we’re being honest.
You spend the next 24 hours refreshing your inbox, awaiting the inevitable rejection. When it comes, it’s a blow to your already fragile sense of self. But hey, what’s real estate investing if not a high-stakes game of “Please Like Me”?
5. Fear of Abandonment, or That Time the Seller Ghosted You.
Ah, the good old fear of abandonment. It rears its ugly head when the seller suddenly stops answering your calls. You lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering if they found another buyer. Did you do something wrong? Should you have been more attentive? More loving? More…cash upfront?
Just like in your relationships, you fear being left behind. The seller’s silence becomes a metaphor for all the people who’ve ever left you. It’s not pretty, but hey, at least you’ve learned that people—like deals—sometimes just slip away. Therapy. Get some.
6. Difficulty Expressing Emotions, Except When You Yell at Your Attorney.
For those who never felt loved, expressing emotions can be hard. This means that when your attorney tells you there’s an issue with the zoning, you respond with deadpan silence…until you snap. Suddenly, you’re not talking about zoning anymore. You’re talking about everything—how the world is unfair, how no one’s ever really had your back, and how you just wanted a little slice of the American Dream but now it’s all gone to hell.
Your attorney, bless their heart, is not a therapist. But they’ve heard worse, probably. Still, maybe next time, save the emotional breakdown for after the deal closes?
7. Resilience: The One Thing You Have Going for You in Mobile Home Park Deals.
But let’s give credit where it’s due. The one thing you did learn from all that childhood turmoil? Resilience. You’ve been through worse than this—much worse. So, even after the deal falls through, or the plumbing is worse than you thought, or the zoning requires more red tape than the U.S. Senate, you get back up. You push forward. You persevere.
Because just like life, mobile home park investing isn’t easy, but you’re damn good at surviving. Maybe even thriving.
So, here’s to you—trauma and all. You’re out there, trying to provide affordable housing while simultaneously working through your unresolved childhood issues. It’s not pretty, but it’s real. And that’s what matters.
Welcome to the world of mobile home park investing. It’s a mess. But so are we.
