Unlearning what I thought I knew about money
When it comes to money, I think I’d describe myself as a recovering penny pincher.
Now, don’t get me wrong—that doesn’t mean I’ve abandoned the idea of saving or suddenly embraced an overly lavish lifestyle. In fact, if you saw me at Safeway last week, standing at the customer service desk because a grocery item didn’t ring up with the discount I’d seen on the price tag, then you’d probably question if I’m embellishing my above self-description with the recovering adjective.
Early influences
Growing up, I paid close attention to how my parents handled money. We didn’t have much — my mom could tell you about the time my dad waged war against an army of squirrels trying to claim the old attic apartment they were renting when I was born.
On the rare occasion we went out to eat, I proudly stuck to tap water and a single entrée just like my parents did because it meant saving my family money. My brother and I wore hand-me-downs from older cousins, shoes a size or two too big so they’d last longer, and shared a bedroom (which, for the record, we loved). Today’s Silicon valley start-up scene would love their commitment to living scrappy while reinvesting the little remainder into opportunities for my brother and I.
The truth is, my parents were (and are) great with money. They knew how to save it, and as I got older, they proved they knew how to grow it too. I’m incredibly proud of them — they’re both are barely over 50 and already retired (although I don’t think they ever really stopped working). Their success is nothing short of a masterclass in discipline and hard work.
The “money = success” mentality
When I left home for college, I was eager to follow in their footsteps. I thought I knew the path to financial success and happiness: (1) make as much money as possible and (2) spend as little of it as possible.
Another thing I inherited from my parents was a love for competition, and seeing their frugality as a kid, led me to view life as this competition, where your score was simply just your net worth.
No chance I’d risk dropping places by lowering my score for the sake of guac on my chipotle burrito.
You can probably see where this is going—shockingly (not), my wisdom led me to prioritize the wrong things. I was so obsessed with avoiding unnecessary spending that I nearly lost my mind when one of my best friends (and roommate at the time) brought home a little Christmas tree for our apartment and asked if I’d split the cost — $10.
I hated the idea of spending money on something so unnecessary. But at the same time, the tree made the apartment feel like a place full of life and, more importantly, it made my friend really happy.
Reframing my understanding of money
Looking back on moments like that, I wish I had understood money differently — not as a scoreboard, but as a tool. A means to a more meaningful life, not just for myself but for the people around me.
Saving money is important. So is earning it. But I’m learning that spending it — thoughtfully and intentionally — is just as much a skill. I’d been blessed with a steady job with more pay than I deserve for the past two and a half years, which means that, now, the decisions I make with my money carry far more weight than they did when I was just a broke college kid counting pennies.
Money is for creating a life that feels rich in experiences, relationships, and opportunities - not just in numbers - whether that's picking up the tab for a dinner with friends, buying something small like a new wallet without guilt, or making the biggest financial leap of my life by leaving the safety of a well-paying job to bet on myself and my startup (more updates on that soon!).
And I won’t pretend I have it all figured out. But I do know this…
The best things I’ve done with money weren’t about keeping it, but about using it in ways that made life richer — sometimes literally, but far more often in ways that don’t show up in a bank account.
Maybe the goal isn’t just to have money. Maybe the goal is to use it well.
Dedicated to my dear friends, whose generosity and kindness have taught me that the best things we do with money aren’t about keeping it. I admire your skill at spending money well.