I and the rest of The Family live a good life. I count my lucky stars every time I think about this.
We’re financially secure, live in a nice home in a beautiful part of the world, have our health and good family and friends, and do fulfilling things daily. To boot, (at least for me now that I’ve FIREd), I have the time I want and need to do things that I want to do on my schedule.
“What more could one ask for?,” you might ask. I’d ask that, too.
To have and have not
Here’s a list of some of the things that we don’t have/haven’t paid for.
- A “luxury” car (we have a moderate midsized sedan that we bought used) or a second vehicle
- A “luxury” home (we live in a (for our city) moderately priced, well-appointed rental that has more than enough space for our needs) or a second home
- Lotsa “luxury” or “fancy” household items, or many pricey popular products that most people rarely if ever use
- Vacations costing five-figures (pre-discovery of FIRE, we took great vacations but kept costs down; now, we’re capable travel hackers and enjoy what’d be even more expensive vacations for even less money out of pocket)
- Take-out, delivery, or in-person restaurant meals on a regular basis (we mostly cook at home and enjoy an occasional meal out (Note to self: The Missus wants more dinners out, so get on this you dolt!)
- Long commutes to places we regularly visit, by virtue of living far from these locations (we’ve always chosen to live in places making most of our commutes easy and free or cheap)
Some of our closest friends and family have/pay for these things. Many of them drive “luxury” cars and/or bought their less-expensive vehicles new rather than used (or lease them for high prices); own beautiful but expensive houses that have high real estate taxes and require large sums for annual maintenance; frequently eat out or order in; and live in areas requiring regularly long (and, in the aggregate, costly) commutes.
Other people think our choices make us hermits outliers. And naive ignorant. And cheap deprived.
I think they make us rational. And practical. And sensible.
Diff’rent strokes
I think about this disconnect a lot. I believe I’ve identified the reason: we’re playing different games.
These friends and family have bought/are buying things that they want and or think they need. Maybe also to not look even remotely like people like us. Because in looking at us, I think they see sacrifice in service of no current tangible benefit.
Just as our friends and family look at us and shake their heads, so, too, do I when I look at them. I mean, sure, they drive expensive cars, have beautiful houses, and take great trips. For far less money—because of choices we’ve made in service of winning the game we’ve chosen to play—we have a fine car, a nice house, and take fantastic trips, too.
The reality is that we in fact have actually “bought” a current tangible benefit. Something invisible to those not looking closely. But, I’d argue, something immeasurably more valuable than any of those things that our friends and family have purchased with their dollars: complete time ownership, and financial security and freedom.
Bonus time
I mean, can they enjoy all their days as they please? Can they (at least the ones not already retired (at traditional retirement age)) take unlimited time off from their jobs if and when they want? Can they on a moment’s notice take time off to attend to important things without a lot of juggling with work (schedules) and repercussions, even if it’s just coming back to a huge backlog of work? Do they have unlimited time to devote to taking care of themselves and their families without thinking of the work-/job-related implications? Do those still working have enough money (in the right places) to retire? Do they, like us, have the calming, reassuring knowledge of how much they need to stop working/retire in the style they’d prefer?
To many (or, for some, all) of these questions, the answer is “no.” Sadly, I suspect that for several of them, they’ll be unable to enjoy the invaluable luxuries we enjoy for at least several years. Maybe decades. Perhaps even never.
I don’t begrudge any of these people the choices they’ve made. You do you, says I. But I am annoyed that they don’t appreciate the different game we played and the payoff we got from playing it. And that they think we’ve gone off our rockers, are barely scraping by and essentially living a life of poverty, and are destined to be destitute when we run out of money, which they surely think will happen in short order.
And in the end . . .
Anyhoo . . . like I mentioned, I think that it all comes down to the fact that we’re playing different games. They’ve won or are winning their games. And we ours. So, I guess we’re all winners?
