It wasn’t one single moment that changed our approach to money, it was a series of realizations that slowly wove themselves together into a new way of seeing our lives.
I started investing in rental properties in my mid-20s. At that time, I had $100 in my bank account and a public library card. I was working full-time in a coffee shop and putting myself through college. One day, I overheard a customer talking about investing — and it clicked: money could be learned, just like anything else.
I read lots of books, took an internship in real estate investing and taught myself to live on very little. Over time, I built equity as my properties appreciated. The rentals provided a modest income stream that allowed me to earn money from home when my kids were born. We refinanced one rental property and bought two more. We were building wealth slowly and methodically. It seemed like we were doing the right thing to provide for our eventual elder years.
We bought a dreamy family home and my husband got promoted at work. We were able to provide a life full of all the stuff I didn’t have as a kid but I constantly felt guilty and anxious about spending money. It seemed like we should be saving more but we didn’t really seem to have extra money or any solid plan.
About two years ago, I discovered Ramit Sethi’s work and was struck by a simple but profound question: What is all this money being saved for? Why was I planning to work and save until old age — a future I might not even get to fully enjoy?
That question opened something up in me. I realized I wanted to travel more while my kids were still young, in their most formative years. I wanted to savor the luxuries that truly mattered to me — without guilt — and cut out everything else that didn’t.
One day, standing in Costco with a cart full of paper towels, Ziplock bags, and some other future landfill items, I had a mini epiphany. I put everything back (except the toilet paper) and vowed to find a better way.
I started by pulling a few months of our bank statements. I was shocked to see how much those “little” Amazon purchases added up. We were replacing things that weren’t really broken or used up- just upgrading because new was fun. We were buying tons of groceries that went to waste. We loved cooking, but every dinner had become a big production — multiple sides, fancy sauces, elaborate prep. One night, exhausted, I threw some steamed broccoli, leftover grilled chicken, and raw carrots on the table. To my surprise, it was a hit!
I realized that we were overcomplicating so many areas of our lives. Simpler meals meant healthier food, less time cooking and cleaning, and more time to just be together.
We also decided to stop buying toys outside of birthdays and Christmas. This was a tough mindset shift for me, coming from a financially unstable childhood, I wanted to give my kids “everything.” But one day, while they were at school, I boxed up 80% of their toys and put them in the garage. I told myself I’d bring back anything they specifically asked about. When they came home, they settled into deeper, more creative play than I had seen in ages. They didn’t miss a thing. The house was calmer, tidier, and I felt an enormous mental weight lift.
I started using Costco delivery to avoid impulse purchases, and I could edit my cart before checkout to keep spending on point. We introduced “buffet night” to use up leftovers and discovered new favorite meals -and had a few hilarious disasters- from pantry experiments. The simpler food, simpler spaces, and simpler schedules felt like a gift to our nervous systems.
All of this was guided by a bigger question: What do we actually value?
I realized I didn’t care about new cars or the latest phone. I did care deeply about beautiful, long-lasting clothing made from natural fibers. I loved traveling and exploring new cultures.
This led me to the FIRE (Financial Independence, Retire Early) movement. The concept is simple: you calculate how much you need per year to live comfortably, then multiply it by 25. That’s your “FIRE number.” If you want to live on $50,000 per year, you need $1.25 million invested. You can sustainably withdraw 4% each year and not run out of money.
When I realized this, everything shifted. Freedom, family time, and security mattered far more than impulse buys and clutter. I didn’t have $1.25 million sitting in the bank, but I had equity in our home, a growing investment portfolio, and a clear path.
We started having honest conversations about our spending. We created a spending plan, not a restrictive budget — one that included the things we loved and cut the rest. We decided to live on one income and invest the other. We turned “no spend days” into a fun challenge, made creative “pantry dinners,” and focused our home projects on preparing to eventually sell.
The kids adjusted beautifully. When they wanted a new toy, we took a photo for their birthday or Christmas list. They could also earn and save for things they truly wanted. Birthday parties became simple “fiver parties” — cake and friends, no elaborate themes or gift bags. Instead of going out, we hosted BBQs where everyone brought a dish. Slowly but surely, our whole family culture shifted. It felt grounding and deeply empowering.
I started sharing my excitement with close friends. We ran numbers and dreamed aloud: What if we sold everything, moved abroad, and embraced a simpler, more intentional life? We wanted access to beautiful nature, fresh food, great education, and affordable healthcare.
Once we realized we could actually do it — even if it meant a little freelance work to add frills — we looked at each other and said, Why wait?
Of course, it was scary. It all made sense on paper, but the reality was emotional and messy. We worried about what we might be missing, how others might react. But we kept coming back to the same truth: we have only one wild and precious life (Mary Oliver quote), and we wanted to live it fully, now, not someday.
We dove in head first, started our immigration paperwork, prepped the house for sale, and hired an estate sale company to liquidate our belongings. We bought one-way plane tickets and made the leap into the unknown. Check out the post about how we did it here.
Conclusion
The leap wasn’t just about geography or money. It was about reclaiming our time and energy, and choosing to live aligned with what really matters to us: connection, adventure, simplicity, and freedom.
We realized that wealth isn’t just measured in dollars. It’s measured in mornings you spend laughing with your kids instead of rushing them out the door. In meals cooked slowly and shared together, not gulped down between errands. In sunsets watched with your partner, not from behind a screen at the office. We stopped saving our best life for “someday” and decided to live it now. We chose experiences over things, presence over perfection, and freedom over more stuff.
It wasn’t easy — it took courage, clarity, and a willingness to let go of old habits, expectations and possessions. But each step toward simplicity brought us closer to a life that feels truly rich.
And the beautiful part? You don’t have to move across the world to start. You can begin right where you are: with one decision, one small change, one honest conversation at a time.
Your version of a rich life is waiting for you — and it might be simpler, closer, and more possible than you ever imagined.
