Be good. Be smart. Get good grades. Challenge yourself as much as practicable. Get into a good college and do well there. Get a well-paying job. Get promoted, then lather, rinse, and repeat. Save money (“save” being undefined). Buy a house. Get married. Take nice vacations and buy lots of nice things (“nice” = expensive, because expensive = “nice”). Maybe buy a vacation home. Have kids. For all of these steps, take on debt if you need to. Even a lot of it. Because the ends justify the means. Fast forward to age 65 or so and retire.
Such are the things I was told lead to and constitute a good life. Maybe you were told the same
Being the ever-dutiful, rule-following bloke I was am, I did as I was told. And asked no questions. Maybe you did, too.
I walked the line
So, I was a goodish kid. I was alleged to be smart. I hoodwinked my teachers got good grades. I challenged myself and often was duly humbled. I got into a good college (a state flagship college) that accepted a nosebleed-high percentage of in-state students and then law school and there, too, I hoodwinked my teachers got good grades. I got a good job after years of trying and struggling. I got promoted because my competition was weak. I saved money (no small percentage of which sat idly in a checking account for decades). I bought a condo house. I got married to someone silly enough to marry down . . . way down. I took fairly expensive nice vacations and bought my fair share of fairly expensive nice things. I and The Missus took on some debt, too that in some cases we didn’t need to.
I never did buy that vacation home. But, hey, the “maybe buy a vacation home” implies that doing so was discretionary, not a mandatory step for living a successful life.
But for Father Time not yet having advanced my age to 65 and thus allowing me to retire, I’ve lived a successful life. Right? . . . Right?
Rrriiigggghhhttt.
But you know what I discovered? That after checking these boxes and reached the peak of these accomplishments, I wasn’t living my best life.
If you’re not entirely happy and you know it, clap your hands!
Sure, The Family (The Missus, Thing One (The Elder), and Thing Two (The Younger)) was great. To be sure, I had no complaints about the personnel. But The Missus worked/works full time. So, our time together necessarily was limited to the few hours we had together before and after work, and on weekends and days off. And Thing One and Thing Two were in daycare or after-school care for years. And after those years, I essentially had the same limited amount of time with them as I did with The Missus. I almost never missed attending/seeing any of the kids’ notable events. But I missed out on an incalculable number of quality hours with them.
Also, while we owned our residence, I discovered that The American Dream of home ownership held little allure for me. And while we took nice vacations and had nice things and saved money, we weren’t building anxiety-limiting or -eliminating wealth.
And my job, where I finally was earning a salary I’d once only have dreamed of? I no longer loved it. I maybe didn’t even like it much anymore. Certainly not the baggage that came with it.
What the flute happened?!, I thought to myself.
Clearance sale
Clarity came to me like a bolt of lightning when I discovered FIRE. Not just because of the money-related aspects. Although they were key. No, it was exposure to this notion that gripped me: The definition of “success” that’s been drilled into you is at best questionable. Maybe even dead wrong (even if for you alone). Here’s an unconventional path that might more positively resonate with you.
And resonate it did.
My mindset changed. And with that, the playing field and goalposts, too. What I found that I really wanted wasn’t professional success, pricey material things and experiences, or “status” amongst family, friends, or acquaintances. And certainly not silly debt. No, I didn’t care if I had any of those things. Rather, I craved financial security, to be financially beholden to no one, and control over my time.
In the beforetimes, I felt like I was draped in the cloak of a life that never felt comfortable. Afterward, I felt like we’d swapped that life for one that felt like it fit me as well as an immaculately tailored suit.
Within six short years, I FIREd. And things now are . . . better. Pretty darned good, in fact.
Loss inversion
The great irony is that little of what came before was a loss. Not at all. Heck, my past self laid the groundwork for fast-tracking what followed. Things moved so smoothly and quickly because we’d followed the conventional wisdom so well, for so long, and had the good sense never to have (over-) extended ourselves financially. By the time we pivoted, we were headlong on the way to FI.
But that pivot was everything. Before it, we were doing “fine.” But, for me, the road ahead was long, fog-shrouded, and squarely headed in a direction that no longer (if ever) held complete allure for me.
I didn’t want forces mostly outside my control (but that could be brought within it) limiting my time with The Family. I didn’t want to work the type of job I had and those that’d likely follow as I “progressed.” Much less until age 65 or later. I didn’t want all the fancy-pants/expensive stuff and experiences that I was told I should want. I didn’t want debt. And I cared not at all whether others were impressed by me for reasons other than who I really am.
Post-discovery of FIRE, I no longer questioned what I wanted. Or what I thought I wanted. Or what I thought I should want, according to conventional wisdom.
No, I knew exactly what I wanted. And I got it. At least 10 years before I otherwise might’ve. Maybe 20 or more.
And in the end . . .
Now, Dear Reader, you may ask if things would’ve moved so smoothly and quickly (or moreso) had I learned about FIRE far earlier and followed the path far earlier, or even from the outset? Maybe. But that wasn’t the case for me/us. So, there’s little use in gaming out counterfactuals.
