‘How I Got My Feet Wet—Literally—Adjusting to a Home With an HOA’

Growing up in New York, I had never even encountered an HOA. Yet after moving to the Midwest, I learned that basically all homes belong to one. It was a club I had to join.

At first, I didn’t think that was a problem. But now I know better.

The two-bedroom condo I bought three years ago in Indianapolis was in my budget, and while the homeowners association fees were an unwelcome added cost, they seemed no worse than anywhere else. The home also had a covered porch and a deck overlooking lovely green space.

I was sold. But as my real estate agent and I were leaving after our tour, she casually gestured toward the concrete beneath my feet.

“Something was dripping here,” she observed. “See the watermarks? I’m not sure…”

Those watermarks barely registered at the time, and I figured a good scrubbing would take care of them.

The pros and cons of HOAs

According to 2023 data from the U.S. Census Bureau, 81% of single-family, new-build homes sold belong to HOAs. I’d come to learn that the Northeast—where I was from—was the last bastion of the country where they have yet to take hold, hence my cluelessness.

I soon learned that HOAs are groups of homeowners who create rules—legally enforceable rules—about what community residents can and cannot do with their property. If you don’t pay your dues, you will quickly find a lien attached to your home, if not a foreclosure.

HOAs also oversee the maintenance of common areas and manage the budget and finances. They’re run by volunteers who typically devote considerable energy to carrying out their duties. It would stand to reason, then, that HOA boards would attract those in the community who, for whatever reason, have lots of time on their hands.

Putting such a demographic in charge comes with pros and cons, naturally. But it is the cons that get the most attention. The stereotypical HOA board member is a busybody who patrols the community, sometimes on foot, wielding a tape measure and taking photos of where visitors park their cars.

Still, I had no concerns about moving into an HOA. Yes, there was a lady who reminded me that garbage cans shouldn’t sit out for more than 24 hours a week, but she was nice about it. I got with the program and pushed my emptied bins into the garage the second I got home from work on trash day.

Come fall, I received my first reminder in the mail that holiday decorations couldn’t stay up outside the prescribed window of 28 days before to 14 days after. Works for me! I couldn’t stand it when houses in my former neighborhood were festooned with Christmas lights well into February. Another notice warned against “leaving clothes to dry on bushes, even briefly.” Umm, no problem. If this was the worst an HOA could dish out, clearly its diabolical nature had been way overblown.

When HOAs turn a blind eye to problems

Then, not long after I had settled in, it rained all afternoon—hard. When it let up, I had to walk my dog, a low-to-the-ground floor of delicate sensibilities. I opened my front door to find nearly half my porch, including the area from the door to the sidewalk, covered in water so deep that my dog refused to wade through it. I carried her in and out.

That pool of water took three days to fully evaporate. It was then that I remembered my real estate agent’s puzzlement over the watermarks on the porch.

This scenario repeated itself every time it rained for longer than an hour or two. I could leave via my back deck, but then I’d have to walk through wet grass to get to my driveway. I also resorted to using a push broom to remove the water from the porch.

Since the HOA was responsible for repairs and maintenance outside my home, I asked the board what could be done about the standing water on my porch. It said it would look into it.

It took a year for the HOA to come by, during which time I discovered that the issue was also a hazard in the winter. The water froze, turning my porch into a sheet of ice. I had to gingerly tread on it, often carrying a Pomeranian. I worried about Amazon and other delivery people, especially in the run-up to Christmas when I’d be getting packages. What if one of them slipped and sued?

Eventually, the HOA determined that the perimeter of my porch needed to be ground down so that when it rained, the water would run off instead of pool. The HOA said it would see if it could find a company to do it.

A second year passed of my push-brooming the water, salting the ice, and holding my breath every time I got a delivery. When the HOA leaders accepted that I was not giving up, they finally explained that they could not find a cement company willing to come out for such a small job. It would be willing to build a new porch, sure, but that would be “way too expensive.”

I had never asked for a new porch, but the idea was not outlandish considering the issue of the pooling water had left it cracked and worse for wear. Plus, I was unable to fully enjoy it. I couldn’t put down a pretty outdoor rug, set up another chair and maybe a small table, for fear of the rain.

Even more frustrating? One of my neighbors was able and willing to grind down my porch for a reasonable fee. But no—because there is a rule against homeowners doing any paid work for the HOA.

The challenges of owning a home with an HOA

I entered HOA life thinking it was simple: A homeowner pays X a month; the HOA will do Y. But the reality seems to be that the homeowner pays X, and the HOA might do Y—if you prod it enough and it isn’t too expensive. In sum, what will be done for you and when is entirely up to the HOA.

An acquaintance who is a lawyer soberly advised me, “Don’t even bother to sue. You won’t win, period. Others have tried.”

Not that I have the wherewithal or desire to sue over my porch, it was still sobering to realize it would be pointless anyway. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the apparent imbalance of power. How is this OK?

A growing number of homeowners have decided it’s not OK, in fact. In Florida, land of 50,000 HOAs, new laws have cracked down on the power of HOAs to enact unreasonable laws or issue exorbitant fines.

Some experts predict that other states could follow suit.

As aggravated as I am about the porch situation, I’m still not sorry I moved in. Generally speaking, the upkeep of the homes is good, and the landscaping is beautiful. The location is convenient, and my neighbors are warm and friendly.

Despite the reputation that HOAs have, 89% of Americans who live in such communities rate their overall experience as very good, good, or neutral, according to a 2022 study by the Foundation for Community Association Research. HOA rules enhance property values, 68% say.

I tend to agree. After living in my community for three years now, I see how the HOA rules help protect property values and make our neighborhood a pleasant place to live.

No matter where you live, you’re going to have rules, unspoken or otherwise, to follow if you want to stay on the good side with your neighbors. I’m leaning on the side of the pros outweighing the cons, all things considered—push brooms included.