Drowning: What it’s like to live in Canada’s most expensive city

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Worried about money? Statistically, you probably are: New research from Meridian Credit Union asked more than 1,500 people from coast to coast about how they really feel about their finances. Experts predicted it wouldn’t be great, but no one knew it would be this bad: More than half of Canadians — and nearly two-thirds (62 per cent) of Ontarians — reported their lifestyle was becoming unaffordable due to rising costs. Forty per cent of women (compared to 18 per cent of men) worry about their long-term financial future.

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Meridian found the younger the respondents were the bleaker their response: 71 per cent of millennials and three-quarters of Gen Zers say it’s getting increasingly difficult to make ends meet. More than six in 10 Gen Zers report feeling panicked, anxious or uneasy about money. Another poll this summer, by Angus Reid Institute, found nearly 40 per cent of Ontarians were considering leaving the province due to high housing costs.

More than climate concerns, taxes and health care, “affordability and cost of living” tops the list of pressing issues affecting Canadians — something current and would-be governments know all too well. To woo younger voters, the Liberals raised capital gains tax on the well-off to help fund $10-a-day child care, a national pharmacare plan, and the Canadian Dental Care Plan. The Conservatives’ Building Homes Not Bureaucracy Act plans to veto red tape and cut development taxes that slow the construction of new homes. The Bloc believes more seniors need money, while the NDP would forgive student debt and offer relief for renters.

And while interest rates have come down, along with inflation, it will take some time before this relief is felt by most Canadians. All these policies and countless more relate to the ever-important issue of affordability.

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But what does affordability mean in real life?

“Affordability is basically how well someone’s income covers their day-to-day living in order to make ends meet,” said Shawn Kauth, vice-president of wealth for Meridian Credit Union. Canadians operate a delicate equation of money coming in and going out with endless variables — housing, family, debts, health, food, fun, to name a few — that can and do fluctuate as life continuously unfolds in myriad ways.

And so, to get to the crux of the affordability issue, we went to Toronto, Canada’s largest city, which, alongside Vancouver, was recently called “impossibly unaffordable” in the Demographia International Housing Affordability 2024 annual report. To better understand what affordability — or the lack thereof — really means in the daily lives of people trying to pay for life in the city, the National Post talked to five Torontonians — of different ages, genders, situations, careers, incomes and walks of life — and nosily asked: How much money do you make? What, where and who do you spend it on? Is it enough? Do you budget and have a plan? How much do you worry about money? And, most importantly, can you afford your life?

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From a real estate agent who can’t afford a house to a boomer thinking about bankruptcy and a suburban dad who needs a side hustle, here’s what five brave Toronto souls told us about their bank accounts, their bottom lines, what affordability means to them and what’s keeping them up at night. Their situations are real, but we agreed to disguise their identities so they could talk freely and openly about their finances.

Barb, the boomer, 66: ‘My business is on life support’

I was born and reared in Toronto, in the Annex neighbourhood, right across from (University of Toronto) John P. Robarts Library when there were still a few old homes left on campus. Except for a few short years I spent living out west, I’ve always lived here in the city.

I started my own business-to-business printing company in 1990. For a long time, it was profitable, and I made a good salary, somewhere between $120,000 and $150,000 a year. I had no problems managing on that, even on my own. I had a car, paid my rent, paid every bill when it arrived. I had never been in debt or owed money to anyone, but I didn’t have much savings because I didn’t plan to retire. Entrepreneurs never retire. Business was great and I loved working.

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Then the pandemic happened and just kind of torched my business. In less than a year, my customer base went from 5,000 to about 50. At first, my ego told me that we’re all in the same boat, business will come back, and I’ll make money again soon. But five years later, still no. My business is on life support. Now I make about $30,000, if that. I’ve taken on three or four side gigs to supplement, but they’re just a few times a year and a couple hundred bucks each.

At 66, I’m not a blue-haired, pearl-earrings kind of senior, but I don’t think I have hustle anymore to handle a business. Revving it back up again would take 14 hours a day for a long time. At 66 years old, that’s the last thing I thought I’d ever have to do. I got curve-balled, big time. For the first time in 35 years, I’m considering declaring bankruptcy. It’s not easy to admit, but I believe it’s important to share. These things happen and are happening all the time.

Toronto is the best city in the world. Too expensive, for sure, but still a great city.

I don’t know what the future looks like, but in the meantime, managing $30,000 rather than $130,000 is very difficult. I blew through my savings — though I hate using that word, because it’s not right. It’s not like I wasted my savings on nothing; I needed them for rent, food, car payments. Two years ago, I was living alone and paying close to $3,000 a month in rent. There was a big transition that had to happen, so I had to borrow from tomorrow to pay for today.

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In the meantime, a couple of years ago, I met a lovely man, and we moved in together to his two-bedroom apartment in midtown Toronto. He’s been there many, many years, so the rent is pretty reasonable, under $2,000 (a month). We split the rent and share expenses, but he’s not rich and can’t take care of me, nor would I expect him to. I’ve never been taken care of in my entire life.

(Most) of our money is spent on food. I do the cleaning, and he loves to cook, which is great because we can’t afford to eat out. Groceries still cost between $150 and $180 a month, though, because fresh, healthy food is really important to us. We don’t drink or smoke. We don’t go out much or travel, which we’d both love to do. He has family in Scotland and I have family in Prague who we’d love to go see. But really, who can afford to travel these days? Even if I were to somehow be able to save a big lump sum, I need that money for something more important.

A decade ago, I had breast cancer and a mastectomy on one breast. I jokingly called myself the “uniboober,” because the truth is that if I’d known more about how it was going to look, I’d have had both removed. Having one natural breast and one reconstructed breast caused all sorts of other problems. OHIP (Ontario Health Insurance Plan) covered the reconstruction, but the surgery left me with a deformed waist that my doctor calls “flanks.” Isn’t that lovely sounding? I look normal in a bra, but not naked. I can’t wear tennis outfits — my favourite sport — or a bathing suit, which was the whole point of having reconstructive surgery to begin with. I just want to feel “whole” again.

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But all this is considered “cosmetic,” so it’s not covered by OHIP. I contacted my doctor and then my MPP, and I’m hoping OHIP will reconsider paying for this for me and other women who need surgeries after cancer. The surgeon quoted me $7,000, which I would have to pay upfront. I can’t afford this at all, I’m already incurring debt I can’t manage, but I might get the surgery anyway. I constantly oscillate back and forth about if and when I will get the surgery. I don’t want to wait and wait until I’m 69 or 70 years old.

I have friends outside of the GTA (Greater Toronto Area) who’ve said, “Why don’t you come here or go there?” I considered moving for a while, and actually looked at some rents in Barrie and Orillia (north of Toronto). But (rents there) seemed almost as high as the rents here, and I’d be lonely and isolated. My partner and most of my friends are here in the city that I love. I still think Toronto is the best city in the world. Too expensive, for sure, but still a great city.

Jared, the suburban dad, 48: ‘You have to have a side hustle these days’

Just over a year ago, I got married and moved to just outside Oshawa, halfway between my old house and my wife’s home in Ajax. We merged right in the middle, homes and kids, too, as we both have one. They’re eight and 10 years old.

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For my full-time day job, I work as a director at a point-of-sale computer company. At night and on the weekends, I’m a Realtor. You have to have a side hustle these days. I’d say I make $75,000 at my company and $25,000 in real estate. I’ve only been doing the latter for a few years, so hopefully that will pick up over time. I usually work about 65 hours a week. My wife is an executive assistant who makes $120,000.

So, together, we have a healthy income, but that doesn’t make budgeting easy. It seems like whatever we make, it’s never enough. There’s still debt, always, of course. I probably have about $60,000 in debt that I’m carrying right now. Not from school or anything, just from life: the wedding, the moves, renovations to the new place. Transitioning isn’t easy or cheap. When we combined houses, we saw a financial planner to help get everything in order.

The house is affordable — we wouldn’t have bought it if we couldn’t afford it — but only because we both had previous properties to sell. The only reason we can afford this house is because of the previous affordability of the last house. As a real estate agent, I’m keenly aware that you need to be making $200,000 to $250,000 to afford even a starter home in the GTA. For lots of people, that’s just totally unattainable.

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Since we got married and moved in and merged everything, budgeting is just so hard to do. I’m laughing right now because I used to do all that, track everything all the time, divided into what I should spend on gifts, entertainment, this and that. Good luck doing that with two kids. There’s so much spending all the time now; I’m constantly six months behind. I’m not being proactive now, I’m being reactive. These days, I tend to get around to (budgeting) just before tax season.

But it’s not just the kids, it’s life. The mortgage is the most expensive thing, of course, at about $3,500. Then there’s property taxes, utilities and bills, and gas — I probably spend at least $1,000 a month on gas. I have to drive back and forth to Toronto, plus I’m doing real estate showings for clients, and I’m not about to waste time waiting at the train station. We actually have two cars, so vehicle insurance is a big expense, too, about $400 a month. All of that already and we haven’t even started living yet.

We’re always walking a fine line between enjoying the moment right now and saving for the hypothetical future.

Here’s where things get interesting, because I’m not good with money. I’m bad with money, actually. Especially when I was single, I always had a high credit card debt. We took the kids on vacation for March Break and by the time we added everything up afterwards, we’d spent close to $10,000. It’s easy for me to just charge things and not think about it. We live our lives to give the kids the best experiences possible. Just last week we surprised them with concert tickets — they didn’t know they were going until an hour beforehand. These joyful memories are really important.

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My wife worries about money, but I don’t. She’s used to never having debt while I’m used to always having it, so there’s a bit of a mismatch there. In my mind, it all rolls up together anyway and I know I’ll pay it off eventually, but she’d much prefer to not have it at all, so paying it off is my current financial priority. It’s not just my money anymore, it’s our money. We both have individual accounts, but we have a shared (joint) account that I’d say 90 or 95 per cent of (expenses) comes out of. When almost everything’s a joint expense, I can’t shop like I used to. I need to be considerate.

For example, I was in Costco this summer and saw these wireless thermometers for the barbecue that I’ve always wanted. My old ones have wires, and I burn them, and I hate them. Costco was selling these cool wireless ones for like $260. A few years ago, I’d have charged that man-toy (to my credit card) without even thinking. Now, I call my wife and ask her what she thinks. I don’t have to do this, but I want to because it’s just respectful. If something’s less than $100, then whatever, but if it’s more than $100, I pause and question it. You have to draw a line somewhere and that’s mine. I got the wireless thermometer, by the way, and I love it.

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My wife has a great pension, so that’s the current retirement plan. If I’m with my wife for the rest of my life, which, knock on wood, we will be, then we’ll be fine because of the pension. But if we were to get divorced, I’d be screwed. Just as doors open up financially when you’re with someone, they slam closed if you split. I don’t know how a (single) individual makes it work in this day and age, so that scares me a bit. I do have a family property that I’ll have an opportunity to buy in a couple of years. I’m hoping that will be my sort-of pension and my contribution to our retirement.

We’re always walking a fine line between enjoying the moment right now and saving for the hypothetical future. I know we need to plan more for the future, and to be honest, I don’t know why we don’t. We should see the financial planner more than we do, but we don’t because we know what they’re going to say, and they obviously want us to do more saving and less living. But I don’t want to want for anything, and I don’t, mostly. Like, I’ve always wanted a ride-on lawn mower. Maybe I’ll get one.

Lana, the single mom, 31: ‘The math just doesn’t add up’

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A couple of years ago, I was married and living in Ottawa in a double-income household. I have a good government job and make about $100,000 a year, and my then-husband made about $140,000. The divorce isn’t official yet, but we’ve been separated now for over a year.

The separation was basically a bomb in my finances. The math just doesn’t add up; even though I have half as much money as before, my expenses haven’t been halved. I still need a space with two bedrooms, at least. My kids are four and seven years old, so they’re happy sharing a bedroom right now, but they’re getting so big so fast. Like all kids, they have a lot of stuff.

I currently rent a one-floor, two-bedroom apartment in the east end of the city that costs $2,200 a month. This feels reasonable and not atrocious, and I’m happy here as long as my boys are. I’d much prefer to have a smaller space and more money for other things.

One of my biggest money issues in the last few years has been groceries. I did one of those TikTok things where you add up your groceries and they tell you what it cost in 2020 compared to now. It was something crazy, like $400 now for what cost $200 in 2020. I’m constantly packing school lunches and giving snacks to these kids, who eat a ton. They’re active, growing boys. We easily spend $250 a week on groceries.

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I’m stressed out enough that it keeps me awake at night, definitely.

After groceries, my next biggest expense is probably after-school care. They both have programs after school because I’m at work. I split these expenses with their dad, but even still, it adds up. So do extracurriculars. They always want to try robotics or karate or something, and their friends seem to have all of these opportunities. I should probably say no more, I know, but I want them to keep up with their peers.

It’s especially hard to say no to experiences, and there are tons of them to be had in Toronto, which is a good thing. There is so much to do in the city for the boys and I can do most of them without a car, which is a huge expense I’m currently saving. We had a car in Ottawa, but I don’t personally drive very often and usually take public transportation anyway. I’m totally fine, better even, without a car.

Every spring, I start saving for (kids) camps in the summer. Then it’s back-to-school in September, which is tough every year, and soon enough, it’s Christmas, so I have to get ready for that. Meanwhile, everyone’s growing and always needs new boots and jackets, it seems. So, saving is my biggest challenge, because it feels like I’m always doing it but it’s not going where it’s supposed to, like an emergency fund, a down payment on a house or retirement. Things like that never seem to happen.

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I worry about unforeseen expenses that I can’t afford, like a big vet bill or something. I don’t know what I’d do then, because I have nowhere near enough. I’m stressed out enough that it keeps me awake at night, definitely. I didn’t used to do that. I used to just stroll into coffee shops and restaurants and buy something if I wanted it. Now I do a lot more thinking about things like that, because they all add up.

This is a new thing for me, but I’ve started tracking all my spending on an Excel spreadsheet to try to budget better. I try to sit down on payday and go through everything. So many of (my expenses) are just surprises that came up that I couldn’t possibly plan or budget for. My takeaway every time is basically, I need to make more money. I’m thinking about getting some kind of side gig going, but I’m not sure what I’d do or when I’d do it. With two little kids, I’m short on time, too.

I’m frustrated and discouraged because even though I make “enough,” and I’m very conscious that I’m in a very privileged position to make six figures, it honestly feels like I’d need double that to do everything I want to do. It’s crazy to think that you can work a good job and make that much money and still not be able to make it work (in Toronto).

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If you’d asked me when I was 19 what my life would look like at 30, I’d have told you I’d be long set by now in the home that I own. I’ve had to revise that goal to 40, and maybe I’ll have to revise again and live somewhere other than Toronto, but my family is here, and my kids are happy here. For now, that’s what matters.

Aidan, the roommate, 27: ‘I’d like to live alone if I could’

I grew up in Oakville, and my parents are still here, which is helpful, since I’m currently crashing at their house. I graduated in 2020 and went to work in tech sales in Toronto where I lived downtown until my roommate moved to the U.K. a few months ago. I put my furniture in my parents’ garage and basement while I look for a new place. I definitely feel fortunate to have a backup and I know lots of people don’t have that, but finding a new place has been really hard.

I’d like to live alone if I could and the finances made sense, but they don’t, because rent in Toronto is so expensive. I work largely on commission and usually make about $6,000 take-home per month, which feels pretty good for someone who’s only been working for a few years. It’s not bad or anything, and I’m happy for now, but it’s not that much when you’re trying to live and plan for the future, too.

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Rent’s my biggest expense per month by far. If I were to live alone, it’d probably cost about $2,500 a month, so I’d have to put all my other financial goals aside. I’m not willing to do that, so I’ve got to find a roommate. I’m hoping to spend something more like $1,200 a month, which is manageable.

I don’t have expensive tastes, I budget, and I put aside some money every month …

Even with a roommate I used to pay $1,600 a month, which just felt like too much. But we were (renting) with the help of a real estate agent. We’d applied at, I want to say, 10 places, put in five different offers and didn’t get any of them. We finally got a place, by fluke, really, when the landlord took pity on us and gave us first dibs, so we took it even though it was so expensive. And it wasn’t expensive and nice, just expensive. It was about 700 square feet, on top of a store, and really a one-bedroom plus den. I was unlucky that time, so I got the den.

Compared to my parents’ house … well, it doesn’t compare to my parents’ house. I can save a ton of money living here. On rent, of course, but also groceries, which usually cost me about $400 a month in the city. But it’s boring out here, and there’s nothing going on. There’s so much travel back and forth — about 45 minutes each way, every day, which I know isn’t bad and could be a lot worse — just to get to the city. Any sort of social function is there, not here. If I go out even once a week for dinner, I can easily spend $100.

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So, of course, I splurge sometimes. I don’t think I travel a ton, but I travel at least once a year and it’s not cheap. Last summer I went out west to visit some friends, and I just spent $400 for a ticket to a college football team in the United States. I have friends to stay with, so it’s not that bad, but still, I’ve been wracked with guilt.

I like to think I have good money habits, which my parents definitely instilled in me from a young age. I don’t live beyond my means, and I don’t carry debt on my credit card. I don’t have expensive tastes, I budget, and I put aside some money every month, because I’d like to be able to buy a house one day and sooner rather than later. I’m hoping to buy a house within five years, and truthfully, if I don’t own a house by the time I’m 35, I’ll be pretty disappointed in myself. Maybe that sounds young, but I bet if you asked another generation, they’d say 25.

According to my math, I should be able to buy a house at 35. I’ve sat down with my parents and an Excel spreadsheet; we have a plan and, mathematically, it works. I try to track everything I spend throughout the month. It’s a good habit to be in. You realize how your money habits all add up.

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I’m not perfect, though, don’t get me wrong. I spend close to $20 every day on lunch, which I kick myself over because it’s so easy to avoid that. If I spent 15 minutes the night before packing my lunch, I’d save $20 a day and $100 a week. This spending is what I feel the most guilty about. Restaurants, too, actually. You get an app and a drink, and it can snowball on you real fast. I often look back on money I’ve spent and think, ‘I didn’t need that. I could have used that better.’

Even though I make enough money and budget and try to spend wisely, I still worry about money, definitely. Toronto is expensive and just being here costs money. Home prices keep going up and up and up. So does rent, it seems. I’m hoping to live somewhere close to the subway line, because having my own car doesn’t make much sense. Neither does living downtown at all, really, but I don’t want to live at my parents’ house forever.

Ashley, the Realtor, 41: ‘My No. 1 financial goal is to own a house’

I moved to Toronto as an infant with my parents. My dad died young, and my mom became a very successful, top-performing Realtor for 37 years. I went to teachers’ college first but ended up getting my real estate license a decade ago to go into business with my mom. Because I’d watched her do it first, I do well at real estate.

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Usually, I make about $150,000 a year, but there are years I’ve made lots more and much less. A couple of years ago, I had a very, very good year and made $250,000; a few years later life happened, and it went way, way down. Inconsistency is a problem when you’re self-employed. Real estate is a tough business; it’s very demanding and competitive and there’s more Realtors out there than ever before.

My husband’s a phenomenal chef who used to work all over the world before he developed psoriatic arthritis. He’d come home from work with his hands swollen three times the size as normal and have to put his hands into a bowl of ice. Now it’s become a permanent, long-term disability and he can’t work. He helps me out at work whenever he can but working a regular 9-to-5 job is impossible when you don’t know how you’ll feel in the morning.

Now we also run a property management company while I focus on real estate, showing clients around potential properties that I’d love to buy. That might sound hard, but it isn’t because I really love my job. I’m privy to my clients’ income and financial information, so I know lots of them make $400,000 or $500,000 a year. Some come from family money or were given property, which I wasn’t and didn’t expect. But I see and show all sorts of properties, not just fancy million-dollar homes. I have a good knowledge of real estate and lots of perspective.

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I’ve had a lot of loss in this life. Living now is important.

I really believe there’s something to be said for home ownership and my No. 1 financial goal is to own a house. But purchasing a home in the midtown area where I rent — my preferred area to live in the city — would cost between $2 million and $10 million. I have a down payment of $65,000 saved, but it’s not enough. I’m slowly realizing I probably won’t be able to purchase in Toronto, and that would be OK. I could move to Collingwood or Muskoka or Coburg and commute to Toronto if I had to. These are all possibilities.

I’m always looking to buy, but in recent years there’s been always something that comes up. Four years ago, I started a complicated fertility process. The government pays for some but not all of it, including the medications you need. They ended up costing upwards of $60,000. This was right after a high-income year, so it was manageable, but then my mom got sick, and I took almost a whole year off work. I lost her to cancer four months ago. My son is nine months old now, and we’re on waiting lists for daycare, so we’ll see how that goes — and what it costs. I might end up hiring someone privately to come to the house. I went to private school and would like him to, too, maybe Montessori. We’ll have to see.

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I suppose I could cut back on my spending and be more frugal. We could go out for dinner less and I could buy (fewer) baby clothes, for sure. We’re going on vacation for two weeks around Christmas, a belated honeymoon that my mom booked for us before she died. Maybe we don’t need to travel, but it’s worth it and important to me. I’m not willing to give all this up for a house — which I probably could do right now if I really wanted to — just to sit in it and be mortgage-poor and not be able to do anything. At 41, both my parents are already gone, and I’ve had a lot of loss in this life. Living now is important.

Our biggest expense at the moment is rent — $3,125 a month for a three-bedroom and two-bathroom in a duplex, which is a good price for our area but still a high amount. I get a discount from the landlord for doing the landscaping, so that’s nice. Then there’s hydro, internet, cable, car, car insurance, medical bills, my husband’s medications, groceries, pet food and real estate fees. After we pay all that, there’s just nothing left. I haven’t been able to save much for retirement.

On a scale of one to 10, I’d say my money stress sits at about a seven. Right now, all my needs are met, and I feel really good about that. But I work fully on commission, so if, for any reason, I got sick and couldn’t work, that would be a nightmare situation for us. I have an upcoming surgery I need, and I’ve been ‘catastrophizing’ a lot. I’m going back on the teaching supply list, so I have a backup, just in case.

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Even though I don’t like the traffic or congestion, I don’t want to move out of the city, but we’ll see. My clients and my business are here, and I’m still young. Even if it takes me 10 more years to own a house, that’d be fine. In the meantime, everything is day by day and up in the air.

Illustrations by Brice Hall/National Post

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