Dear Reader, as you’ll shortly discover, the subject of this post is pretty simple and straightforward. But, hoo boy have I had a devil of a time tackling it! I meant to publish last week, but the trouble I was having and my usual procrastination led me to hold off and work on the post some more.
Then I meant to post the whole shebang today. But still I was having some trouble adequately expressing my thoughts. And then I thought of a whole ‘nother sub-subject to add. Sheesh!
On the one hand, this subject covered is pretty small. But on the other hand, it ain’t. Realizing this, I thought of a copout solution. I’ll tackle the subject in a multipart series.
So, Dear Reader, I’ll torture bore you not once, but two—or more likely three—times. You . . . are welcome!
With that, let’s get to it, shall we?
Benz there, done that
Morningstar’s Christine Benz is a fantastic retirement and personal finance content creator/thinker. She’s super sharp and a terrific writer and interviewer. Her podcast, The Long View, and articles she’s written for Morningstar, are worth your time. Morningstar, and Benz specifically, often address FIRE/the FIRE community. Refreshingly, they’ve never patronized nor reflexively dismissed it.
FIRE/the FIRE community clearly intrigues Benz. She’s never indicated that she identifies as part of the community, but has noted alignment with many FIREy practices and goals. Differences don’t appear fundamental in nature.
The Spanish inquisition
My sense that over time Benz has become more intrigued by FIRE essentially was confirmed when I read her May 29, 2025, article recapping her takeaways as an attendee and speaker at CampFI Spain earlier this year. The tl;dr is that she had a great experience, met and spoke with many regular folks in the FIRE community, and came away (re)considering new things.
Benz writes that she now fully appreciates that it’s FI that’s what all in the community seek, writing, “I already knew that the FIRE community was more nuanced than many people give it credit for, but hearing people’s stories drove this home. Not everyone is committed to quitting work early or a frugal lifestyle. It’s the financial independence piece that’s the unifier, and I think it’s a worthy aspiration for all of us.”
But she followed that up with this:
“That said, the ‘retire early’ in FIRE is alive and well. There was a lot of talk about people hitting ‘their numbers’—the amount that they had determined they needed in order to declare themselves financially free. People shared stories of how their work lives were a complete and utter grind, to the point of being unhealthy, and that prompted their desire to pursue FIRE. It got me thinking about how suboptimal it is that people work to the point of burnout.
Most people I talked to at the conference allowed that if you love your job, you should keep working. But I found myself feeling a bit defensive about work, sensing that people could be underestimating its benefits. My career has brought me a lot more than money over the years, including a sense of identity and making a difference, as well as some enduring friendships. I disagree with the notion of work as a miserable slog to be gotten through. If your job is soul-crushing misery, by all means get out. But it doesn’t have to be that way.”
That made my brows furrow a bit. And got me thinking.
Control . . . Halt . . . Delete!
I concede that this is a common sentiment of those in the FIRE community: I dislike(d) my job because [fill in the blank] and want(ed) to leave it. FIRE will allow/allowed me to do that and likely not face imminent penury. So, I will pursue/pursued FIRE. And I plan to/will never work again.
But I’ve come to some conclusions about all this that Benz may not have (yet). I think the deep-seeded—maybe even unrecognized—motivation for many (including me) for pursuing FIRE is a matter of control that goes beyond just the oft-cited control over one’s time, ability to do work that one likes/loves, and financial destiny. Tho those elements of control are absolutely key.

Lemme ‘splain, using my experience as an example.
I wanted to FIRE in no small part because I’d tired of, and become a bit burnt out from, my work and the people for whom I did it. I craved control over my time, ability to do meaningful work, and financial destiny.
That’s true. To a point. I’ve since come to realize something else more clearly. Something critical.
See, I did enjoy some types of work I did over the years. I was good at it, too. Judging by feedback given and raises received, my supervisors agreed. The problem was that over the years, much of that work was replaced with work that I did well, but enjoyed (far) less.
That was bad enough. But the problem had another dimension. Here’s an illustration. Fed up that my job responsibilities had adversely changed too much, I proposed, a few times, that they shift back to work I liked. In time, my proposal was accepted. I was excited. But days before the change was to take effect, my boss blindsided me, not only reneging on the deal but explaining that he’d since hired someone else to take on the work I was to have done. I was hopping mad disappointed.
By that point, I was about 20 years into my career. I’d experienced or seen my fair share of adverse workplace situations. So, while I was hopping mad disappointed by my boss’ actions, I wasn’t totally surprised. His conduct complemented my experience-based knowledge that a good work situation could turn bad at any point, for any number of reasons outside of my control.
All to say that I’d concluded that happiness and/or contentment in the workplace is a fragile thing.
Now, sure, leaving for a new employer or starting one’s own business can, in theory, ameliorate the immediate problem. I in fact did both.
But my move to a new employer turned out terribly. My new boss was awful and I disliked the new employer. Starting my own business seemed promising, but because of various circumstances that’d have taken an unwelcome amount of time, energy, and risk to address, it neither allowed me to do only or mostly the work I liked best. Nor did having my own business spark joy.
So, yes, these types of moves can in practice be great. But as I can attest, it ain’t always necessarily so. The palliative effects can be a fragile thing.
The big bang
In time, I had the following epiphany that made me latch onto the concept of FIRE as soon as I discovered it: what I’d completely tired of was a lack of control of my ability to keep good things going for as long as I wanted them to. Good things as to the work I got to do. As to my boss and colleagues. As to time freedom. And more.
The ground underneath in the workplace is constantly shifting. Hidden and/or new potholes are all around. One is always at risk of the surprise of falling into one. That’s why FIREing can and should be so appealing. Gaining control to wholly preempt the possibility of a surprise bad work situation is, I think, a subtle but critical nuance to the concept of control that so many in the FIRE community (including me) cite as a driving force for wanting to FIRE.

I don’t doubt that many who Benz perceived as burned out and/or enduring soul-crushing misery really were experiencing burn out and/or enduring soul-crushing misery. But I also suspect that many of them once liked much of their work and work conditions, that those positive elements had since eroded, perhaps to the point of absence, and that they, like me, hadn’t tired of the good parts of work but rather the bad parts which can/did recur during their careers even if the situation had at some point(s) been rectified.
Sure, uncertainty is an unavoidable fact of life. But lawdy, lawdy, lawdy can FI/FIRE go a long way toward mitigating it as to a major part of most peoples’ lives: work.
So, back to me. Because this is after all my blog/vanity project why not?
Did achieving FIRE mitigate this source of uncertainty that I now realize I’d come to loathe? And did it give me the control that I needed to eliminate the situation from being an issue at all? More than three years after FIREing, I can report that it’s mission completely accomplished. I suspect that others who’ve FIREd have found the same. And that many who are pursuing FIRE for the same reason likely will find the same.
And in the end . . .
OK, Dear Reader, I think I’ve tortured bored you wwwaaayyy more than enough. Tune in next time for more of my scribblings.

Yes! There are parts of my job I enjoy, but they are disappearing because, quite frankly, I am good at the rest of the stuff. That stuff being dropped in the middle of amorphous, difficult, and increasingly to my mind, pointless projects. Whenever I try to increase my participation in the stuff I enjoy, it’s farmed out to someone else and back I go on the merry-go-round. I feel like I’m being punished for being good at what I do. With a max of 3 years to FIRE, I’m vacillating between looking for something fresh or just sticking it out. I do have great colleagues, a lot of trust from management, flexibility and plenty of annual leave. If I start elsewhere it would probably take me 3 years to return to that point. In fact, I hadn’t thought of it like that before. That is a very strong argument for me to stay given the timeframe. Sorry for the stream of consciousness, but this has been very helpful.
Glad you were able to do the thought exercise! I’m of two minds about your dilemma.
One the one hand, it sounds like your work (the work you’re actually doing, as opposed to the work you enjoy but do less of) is unenjoyable but bearable and your working conditions are pretty sweet. On the other hand, you don’t love what you’re being made to do, presumably have a lot of FU money, and, I assume, are far younger than traditional retirement age. Feel free to clarify if I got any of this wrong.
The full-time working me was in just that situation. I ended up sticking it out. Mostly because I was paid well enough, liked many of the people with whom I worked closely, and disliked but didn’t hate my work. Plus, I essentially thought, “it’s just three more years.” Now with the benefit of the perspective coming from more than three years being FIREd, I’d tell myself then to consider the option of leaving more seriously. But I’d add the suggestion of really considering a barista FIRE position. Or at least a barista FIRE position after finding and leaving for a more ideal full-time position in my field but then finding the new position insufficiently ideal. Sure, taking a barista FIRE position (initially or after giving another full-time position a go) might extend the time to FIRE. But it also might make that time far more enjoyable and less stressful. And maybe allow for more time flexibility, too. The FU money allows for this/provides excellent optionality.
Even with this advice from my future self I dunno if my then pig-headed self would’ve done things differently. But it would’ve been helpful to have the perspective.
Good luck!