Loading As it turned out, my FOMO-crescendo (that's my Fear Of Missing Out, in case you didn't know) coincided precisely with the peak of the most recent property price boom. So for two years, I bided my time, watching the market and waiting for the time to strike. By the middle of this year, I began to get twitchy, as the Reserve Bank began cutting interest rates and the prudential regulator relaxed lending standards. My conversations with bankers quickly morphed from me telling them how imprudent it was to borrow on a deposit of less than 20 per cent, into one simple question: “What’s the most I can borrow TODAY?” And then it happened: I fell in love with the unit next door, on the market with a “buyers' guide” well within my reach.

As the auction approached, I spent hours agonising on THE NUMBER that would be my maximum bid – the precise dollar figure to balance my desire for the property and my desire not to overpay. On auction day, I wrote that number on a small piece of paper, folded it and placed it in my chest pocket, before striding confidently to auction, the real estate agents having told me on several occasions they expected about two other bidders. Illustration: Matt Davidson Credit: I began to get uneasy when I realised about nine bidders had registered. I stayed silent as the bidding began, observing several groups of young buyers knock each other out of the equation.

The reserve was struck. I made my attack, entering the fray on a "first, second and ...” call. For about $40,000, I went toe to toe with a cool character, who turned out to be an investor, until I, too, reached my reserve, whereupon I immediately fell silent. Just kidding! Of course I bid $4000 beyond the number in my pocket! Eventually, however, I slumped against the wall, dropping my bidding card onto a nearby table. “That’s not a good sign,” the auctioneer said. No, it wasn’t.

Loading And so I got to participate – unwittingly – in that most Australian of traditions, a fundamental rite of passage for any aspiring first home buyer: being resoundingly thumped at auction by an investor spending at least $100,000 above the initial guide. Defeated, but finally mobilised, I lined up a few inspections for the following week, not expecting much. But, dear reader, what's meant for you will find you. I fell in love again – hard – and, this time, for a private treaty sale. I made an offer to the agent. It was accepted that afternoon. We exchanged contracts the following day. And so, I’ll be in by Christmas. The most anticipated property purchase in Australian history – at least measured in column inches on these pages – has come to pass.

Loading I confess: I’m utterly delighted – more than I ever expected. My plan now is to live there for decades, use my super to pay off any outstanding debt in retirement and live on the age pension. Yep, I may finally be on the ladder, but I’ve no desire to climb it. For the record: I still think our housing market is a mess.

The way Australians have managed to turn what should be a simple market for the exchange of that most basic of human needs – shelter – into a casino of wealth speculation, driven by investor tax breaks and greed, is a national disgrace. Despite my new hallowed status as a "home owner", I still think we should abolish negative gearing and the capital gains tax discount. I still struggle to see why any appreciation in the value of the home I just bought shouldn’t be taxed according to my marginal tax rate. Why should I enjoy a tax break on the act of enjoying secure housing, but pay full freight on the fruits of my labour? I’d also be happy to pay a modest annual land tax to fund the abolition of stamp duty, which ate a considerable chunk out of my deposit. While we’re at it, it’s time to end the farce that is auctions. Surely there are simpler ways to figure out what a property is worth than luring everyone to emotionally charged auctions with low-ball initial estimates of the ultimate sale price?

Loading Let’s at least have reserve prices announced well before auction day so people can decide if it’s worth turning up, or indeed, sinking thousands of dollars into obtaining building and strata reports. And so, as I prepare to move into my forever home, I’m keenly aware of my good fortune. As prices ignite again, my thoughts lie with other young Australians still on the hunt, or who have given up entirely on the search for a secure home. They deserve so much better.