Once Upon a Time in NY: February 2026

I met him on a Tuesday. Finance guy. Six Foot. Recently single. He told me he was interviewing six other brokers that day.

The apartment was a handsome double-height prewar. So was he.

Solid financials. Good bones. Needed some cosmetic work, but no serious red flags.

The next morning, I called him. “I think it’s time to go to market.”

Not just the apartment. Him too.

I got the exclusive on both.

Love Sought

Home buying and dating in New York are not so different. High demand. Low inventory. Everyone swears they’re being reasonable while quietly chasing something just out of reach. Or secretly wondering if something better is one swipe, or one showing, away.

Men want what they can’t afford. Women want what will probably be bad for them. In love, and real estate.

It was peak Covid. The city was quiet. No one was buying. Everyone was lonely. I myself was starved of meaningful connections. At my core, I’m a connector. I love bringing people together. A single friend of mine kept complaining about how impossible dating had become during lockdown, which gave me an inspired (slightly impulsive and very poorly thought through) idea. I posted on Instagram: If you’re single and want to be set up, DM me.

Within 48 hours, over a thousand people did.

My intentions were good but to say I was over my skis would be an understatement (but an expression I’ve been dying to use.) Business was slow, so it was a nice distraction. I got to work. I made a questionnaire. I hosted Zooms with people who had been referred and I’d never met. I watched Patti Stanger. I googled how to matchmake. I created a method, a formula. Then I started matching.

Over the next 36 months, I matched hundreds of people (apologies to anyone receiving this who was directly impacted). A few success stories the New York Post was generous enough to cover, but for the most part, a lot of fails. Not just “he was nice, but…” fails. Truly epic fails. The kind where you accidentally set two exes up.

That’s when I learned two things. One, dating and home buying are basically the same emotional sport. Two, I’m a very good buyer’s agent but I am a terrible matchmaker.

Just like finding the right apartment, you never know what’s going to create that spark. That’s why I’m a huge believer it’s a numbers game. You have to stay in it long enough to find what actually moves you. What people say they want is rarely what truly motivates them. A woman who swears she’ll never date anyone under six feet will fall hard for the right short king. A buyer who insists on ten foot ceilings will melt for a post war in a good building with perfect light.

Everyone walks in with a checklist. Very few people know what they’ll love until they see it. And then there are the people who find it, and learn it isn’t right for them. The hard way.

Love Lost

(Details changed, always.)

I once had a couple end their engagement days before signing a contract. We had been searching for almost six months, and throughout the process, I knew something was off. They would only communicate with each other through me, on group text or over the phone. They had separate finances and very little transparency about what the other had, which made putting together a joint financial statement a nightmare.

They also spoke in therapy language. You know the type. So over-therapized that every sentence sounded like, “I understand you feel this way. This is how I feel.” “I’m setting a boundary here.” “I’m not asking for feedback at this time.”

But we muscled through it. I was often pitted against the other, asked to take sides in disagreements. It did a number on my head, but I persisted. We made offers on at least three places. Then finally, we found the one. The one they didn’t have a domestic over. We negotiated hard and got the deal done. The contract was drafted. The finish line was right there.

Then the call came: No deal. No wedding. No pleasantries.

They consciously uncoupled, unconsciously fired me as their broker, and walked away from the deal. I had a feeling this was coming. Still, it hurt just as bad.

It did, however, teach me an important lesson about my own boundaries.

But then there are the happy endings. When love, romance, and real estate all come into perfect harmony and the stars and planets align. I’m a big believer in manifestation. Whether it’s the universe or divine intervention or not, you can’t argue that if you believe in something truly, fiercely enough, odds are you will start taking small actions to bring it to fruition.

Love Found

My friend K was going to find love. She was going to find the perfect Park Avenue apartment. She was going to have her dream wedding at the Plaza. She was going to be pregnant within the year. Some people call this manifesting. I call it serious planning and execution.

When it came to love, she dated with intention. She was open. She put herself out there. She didn’t settle.

When it came to real estate, she didn’t wait for a partner to buy a home with. She bought a starter apartment herself and renovated it. We sold it off market for a profit. She set her sights on the next one. The dream one. The Park Avenue one. She got reapproved for a mortgage. She had her financials ready. We started searching.

Then she finally met J. Kind. Thoughtful. Successful. A great sense of humor. Emotionally available. The kind of guy who made everything feel lighter. They were introduced through a mutual friend, someone she had already told exactly what she wanted. They were engaged within a few months. She called the Plaza and made sure they had the date. We started looking for the Park Avenue apartment immediately.

Within one year, we were celebrating at their wedding at the Plaza. Both their love, and the closing of their new Park Avenue co op.

Some call this proof of manifesting. Some call it proof of doing the work. Call it what you want, but my philosophy is simple. Start doing something. Because that’s what manifesting really is. It’s willing something into fruition and then taking actions, however small, to get there.

Don’t sit at home and swipe. Don’t sit at home and scroll Zillow. Get out there. Find a broker. Go see some apartments. Hire a matchmaker or call a friend and have them set you up. Meet people that way. Finding love and finding a home doesn’t happen from your couch. It happens through connection.

Manifestation isn’t passive. It’s active. Go to the bank. Get preapproved. Go to the gym. Invest in your health. Hire a stylist. Hire an interior designer. Walk into rooms. See what’s available. Talk to people. Get in the game and be prepared to move when the right thing, or person, appears.

The universe will look kindly on you. And if not the universe, a partner, a seller. Action and intention shows you’re serious and you’re committed to closing. Which is the name of the game. In love and real estate.