We moved into a neighborhood and got lucky. Real lucky. The kind of neighborhood where people actually know each other's names, where the kids run between yards, where someone always brings the smoker out on Saturdays.
We also got an HOA.
Three of our closest friends on the block had been fighting that HOA for years.
One of them was a Coast Guard veteran. He hung an American flag on his porch — the same flag he'd served under. The HOA sent him a letter telling him to take it down. The wrong dimensions, they said. Wrong color of pole.
Another friend put a basketball hoop in his driveway for his kid. His neighbor — a board member — filed a complaint. Then a fine. Then a lawsuit, joined by the HOA. By the time it was over, he'd sold his house and moved out of the neighborhood. The hoop went with him.
A third friend wanted to paint his house white. The HOA had a designated palette set sometime in the 1950s. White wasn't on it. He'd spent two years trying to get the palette updated. The board wouldn't put it to a vote.
What made all of it worse: the HOA wasn't enforcing these rules on everyone. They were enforcing them on the people the board didn't like. Some neighbors had flags. Some had hoops. Some had houses in colors that definitely weren't on the 1950s palette. Nobody got fined except our friends.
We started spending weekends on the back porch reading their violation letters together. Going through the HOA's own rules. Pulling up the state statutes. Drafting responses. Pointing out where the board hadn't followed their own procedures. Where the fines weren't allowed under the bylaws. Where the selective enforcement was, frankly, illegal.
And the funny thing started happening.
We started winning.
The Coast Guard guy got his flag back up — the HOA quietly withdrew the violation after we pointed out a state law that specifically protects the right to display the American flag.
The third friend ran for a board seat the next year. He won. The palette is being updated.
We couldn't get the basketball hoop friend his house back. That one still hurts.
Somewhere between a baby on the way and a three-year-old who needed to feel important and a partner who was carrying more than her share, the idea for this company landed.
HOAs have been operating unchecked for too long. Most homeowners don't fight back because they think they can't — because the paperwork is intimidating, because hiring a lawyer costs more than the fine, because the board is counting on you to fold.
F MY HOA — the brand — is the rallying cry. Fight My HOA — the service — is the tool. We take the back-porch playbook that worked for our friends and turn it into a dispute package any homeowner can buy for $79, anywhere in the country, in about ten minutes.
We're not a law firm. We don't give legal advice. We don't represent you. What we do is the same research and document prep that homeowners have been doing for themselves for decades — we just do it faster, cheaper, and with better odds.
If your HOA is bullying you, we're here.
Welcome to the neighborhood.
— The team at F MY HOA