Why Most Colivings Don't Work

The coliving industry has a problem it doesn't want to talk about: most of the spaces don't actually work. Not in the way they promise, anyway.

They sell community, focus, and connection. What they deliver is a rotating cast of strangers, thin walls, and drinking on the roof every night. The branding is always beautiful. The reality is usually a shared apartment with a content calendar.

I've lived in enough of them to know. And that's why I built Savi — a sober coliving in the mountains of Valencia. But before I explain what we do differently, let's talk about what's broken.

The revolving door problem

Most colivings allow stays of a week, sometimes even a few days. This creates a constant churn of people. You spend Monday learning someone's name, Wednesday having your first real conversation, and Friday watching them leave.

Real community takes time. It takes shared meals, repeated conversations, seeing someone on a bad day. You can't build that in a week. You can't even fake it.

At Savi, the minimum stay is one month. Most people stay two or three. By the end of the first week, you know everyone. By the end of the first month, you have actual friends — not just people you've met.

The alcohol default

Here's the one nobody wants to say out loud: the social culture in almost every coliving revolves around alcohol. "Community event" means drinks. "Welcome night" means drinks. "Let's hang out" means drinks.

If you don't drink, you're immediately on the outside. Not because people are mean — but because the environment isn't designed for you. The bonding mechanism is alcohol, and if you remove it, there's nothing underneath.

Sober coliving removes alcohol entirely — not as a restriction, but as a design choice. When drinking isn't an option, people find other ways to connect: cooking together, hiking, real conversations. The community that forms is deeper because it has to be.

The productivity illusion

Many colivings have a "coworking space." Often this means a table in the living room with spotty WiFi. Or a beautiful desk with no monitor. Or a shared space where someone is always on a loud Zoom call.

Savi has a dedicated coworking room with dual screens at every desk, Starlink WiFi (500Mbps), and a culture of quiet focus. People actually work here — not perform work for Instagram.

No curation, no community

The most important thing about a coliving isn't the building. It's the people. And most colivings accept anyone who can pay.

Savi reviews every application. Not because we're elitist — because we know that one person who doesn't share the values can change the energy of the entire house. We keep it small (12-14 people) and intentional. The result is a community that actually feels like one.

The fix isn't complicated

Longer stays. No alcohol. Real workspace. Curated community. It's not rocket science. It just requires saying no to most of the things the coliving industry says yes to.

If that sounds like what you've been looking for, take a look at Savi.