
Welcome to Money Philosophy, where we’re unpacking the personal, emotional, and cultural forces that shape how Gen Z women think about money. We’re asking real women to reflect on the why behind their financial decisions—not just the what.
Today: a 27-year-old software engineer living in New York City on ~$400,000 total compensation. She’s built a net worth of $866,000 (down from ~$950K after recent market dips) and is aiming for early retirement—not to quit working, but to make it optional.
Age: 27
Net Worth (Assets & Debt): $866,000 (previously ~$950,000)
Salary (or Primary Income Source): ~$400,000 in total compensation (tech)
Region: New York City
Industry: Technology
So I thought, What if I could retire by 35? Not necessarily retire-retire, but reach a point where working is optional. That goal [somewhere between $5 million and $9 million] gave me a framework to budget around.
When you think about money, what comes to mind first?
Freedom. That’s the first thing that comes to mind. Not just financial freedom—but life freedom. Money, to me, is a tool to unlock experiences, say yes to opportunities, and avoid being boxed in by necessity.
Has this always been your relationship to money?
Definitely not. I didn’t grow up with money. At one point, my family’s household income was around $30,000–$40,000 a year. My mom? She’s the queen of budgeting. She did everything she could to make sure I never felt like I went without. But even as a kid, you pick up on stress. You feel when money is tight, even if no one says it out loud.
Was there a moment when your mindset around money started to shift?
Oh yeah. It was once I started working full-time in Seattle. I was frugal—but even then, lifestyle creep hit. I’d look at my credit card statement and think, I’ve spent more in a month than my family used to earn in a year. And that guilt? It was crushing. I’d ask myself, How can I enjoy this when it feels so wrong?
Eventually, I realized I needed to reframe things. I needed a new relationship with money—one that didn’t make me feel guilty for what I had worked hard to earn. I started thinking about my goals. Not vague ideas like “save more,” but actual, tangible goals.
What helped you overcome that guilt and scarcity mindset?
I gave myself a target. A number. I realized I had no real plan—just this vague sense that I “shouldn’t spend.” So I started exploring FIRE: Financial Independence, Retire Early. I was 22 at the time, and it felt like this radical but strangely practical idea. I wasn’t saving for a house—I didn’t know where I wanted to live. But I did know I wanted options.
So I thought, What if I could retire by 35? Not necessarily retire-retire, but reach a point where working is optional. That goal gave me a framework to budget around. It made spending feel purposeful rather than indulgent.
What number did you set for early retirement?
Honestly? Somewhere between $5 million and $9 million. I need to revisit the calculator I used, but that was the rough range based on my savings rate and desired timeline.
This is the first time I’m living through a downturn as a full-fledged adult, and being in tech just makes everything feel even more uncertain. My job stability is tied to an industry that feels increasingly volatile. I know history shows people bounce back, but when you’re in it, it hits different.
Nine million sounds like a lot, how did you get to this number?
You enter how much money you currently have saved, how much you’re saving annually, and the age you want to retire. Then—kind of morbidly—you estimate how long you’ll live. Based on that, it tells you how much you need to retire, assuming a 4% withdrawal rate that your investments will continue to grow from. It’s weird having to estimate when you’ll -you know- kick the bucket in your 20s, but it really changed the way I thought about what’s “enough.”
What age did you originally want to retire?
The original goal was 35—but now it’s looking more like 31. I’m not holding myself too tightly to that though, because, let’s be real, the market’s a mess right now. So I’m staying flexible.
How do you feel about the market changes and the political climate affecting your plans?
Honestly? It’s scary. This is the first time I’m living through a downturn as a full-fledged adult, and being in tech just makes everything feel even more uncertain. My job stability is tied to an industry that feels increasingly volatile. I know history shows people bounce back, but when you’re in it, it hits different.
I think Gen Z—especially those of us on that zillennial cusp—grew up watching our parents struggle during the last recession, and that shaped a lot of our practical mindset. For me, building this wealth feels like both a privilege and a responsibility. I’m aware that no one’s going to protect it for me but me. That realization? It was a wake-up call.
I’ve been doing a lot more reading—learning about financial history, political structures, voting. I didn’t vote for this mess, but now I’m trying to better understand how we got here and what I can do differently going forward—both personally and collectively. It’s made me more thoughtful about how I show up in this democracy and how I make decisions that ripple outward.
At the end of the day, I know all I can really do is plan for the worst, hope for the best, and keep myself as informed as possible.
If you did retire early, what would you actually do?
I’d probably teach computer science. It changed my life—like completely flipped my trajectory. I mean, I’ve gotten to live this wild life. I was just in Seattle, I’m going to London next, then back again. Tech opened so many doors for me.
But it’s a weird relationship. Like, I also side-eye the industry constantly. It’s like… am I the problem? Still, I genuinely love the work. I love solving technical problems. It’s mentally engaging in a way that makes me feel alive. So I can see myself staying in corporate—if it’s by choice, not necessity. Having that agency is what FIRE is all about for me.
What kind of career freedom are you aiming for?
Right now, I feel like I have a lot of autonomy—but I know that can shift. When money locks you in, you can lose that sense of self. I’ve been lucky to stay aligned with my values at work, but I’m also preparing for the day when that might not be the case.
If I stay in tech, great. But if I don’t, I’d love to go back to the classroom—specifically, community college. That’s where I first discovered tech, and it changed everything for me. My professor was like an artist. I used to fail math and science, but he showed me a way of thinking that just clicked. He saw me when I didn’t even see myself, and I want to be that person for someone else.
So much of mainstream financial advice, especially the stuff from older generations, is very one-size-fits-all. But FIRE taught me there’s more than one path. I started reading threads on Reddit, exploring personal finance conversations that weren’t just Dave Ramsey or boomer-coded lectures. And suddenly I was seeing people who were retiring early without ever owning a home. Some are just renting forever—and thriving.
Did you get into tech for the money?
Nope. Not at all. I just loved solving problems. It was never about the money—it was about how exciting it felt to figure something out. My professor made tech feel playful and artistic. It wasn’t the grayscale, cubicle-coded vision people usually have of this field. That changed everything.
What role does real estate play in your financial plan?
Right now? None. I’ve never really planned to buy a home. Part of that’s just who I am—I’m free-spirited, and that mindset carries over into my finances.
So much of mainstream financial advice, especially the stuff from older generations, is very one-size-fits-all. But FIRE taught me there’s more than one path. I started reading threads on Reddit, exploring personal finance conversations that weren’t just Dave Ramsey or boomer-coded lectures. And suddenly I was seeing people who were retiring early without ever owning a home. Some are just renting forever—and thriving.
It made me realize how much freedom there is in just… opting out of the “expected” path.
How have you defined your own financial strategy?
A lot of reading. A lot of listening. Seeing how differently people live and still find joy, even on wildly different incomes. I’ve found so much comfort in knowing that success doesn’t have to look one way—or cost a specific amount.
Sure, my current FIRE number is based on staying in NYC, but I don’t see myself here forever. If I moved to a smaller city or town, I could probably retire now. Like, I could buy a $200–300K multifamily home, rent part of it, live simply, and be good.
I’ve seen friends do it. They make a fraction of what I make, but they’re raising families and thriving. That kind of exposure to different versions of happiness makes me feel freer. It helps me drown out the noise of what we’re “supposed” to do and trust myself instead.
At the end of the day, I’ve got my number—but I’m still just kind of going off vibes.
Has social media influenced how you think about money?
Yeah… 100%. Reddit is where I find comfort. Instagram and the more traditional sides of social media? They definitely get to me. I’ve felt so insecure about my financial standing, which is wild because I know I’m doing well—but comparison sneaks in anyway. Sometimes I catch myself thinking, Wow, people are living so much wealthier than me, and I feel behind.
But the thing is, I don’t spend everything I earn. I live pretty simply, and my goals are different. So even if someone looks richer online, they might just have a flashier lifestyle—not more financial stability. I have to remind myself of that all the time.
Also, I used to think these people had some kind of secret sauce—like they knew something I didn’t. Maybe they cracked the code on the market or something. But then I started doing the math, and I realized the only difference was when they learned about investing. If I had known earlier, I’d be right where they are now. It really comes down to time and access.
And that’s why interviews like this are important—because people learning this stuff earlier really does make a difference.
I hadn’t really asked my parents for money since I was like 12. I saved all my birthday and holiday money, and even in high school I’d use that to pay for things like yearbooks or school uniforms. I was really big on not asking for help—I just didn’t want to be a burden.
What was your first job, and why did you get it?
I was 16, working at a boba shop near Disneyland. I made boba, built breakfast sandwiches, served families on vacation. My brother was a boba shop manager when he was in college, and I thought it was the coolest job ever. I made about $9 an hour.
I hadn’t really asked my parents for money since I was like 12. I saved all my birthday and holiday money, and even in high school I’d use that to pay for things like yearbooks or school uniforms. I was really big on not asking for help—I just didn’t want to be a burden.
What did that job teach you about money?
Hmm. Honestly, I never really thought about it that deeply at the time. It was more about survival and independence. I just didn’t want to rely on anyone.
Why did you feel like a burden?
My parents were always super stressed about money. I remember being 14 or 15 and just feeling horrible that I couldn’t get a job yet to help out. You weren’t legally allowed to work until 16, and I remember feeling so useless during that in-between time.
Once I could work, I was determined to bring in my own income. It wasn’t even about contributing to the household directly—I just didn’t want to be another thing my parents had to worry about. I know they probably didn’t see me that way, but I definitely did.
Do you currently support anyone financially?
Not in a formal way. I pay for my family’s phone plan, and when I visit home, I’ll usually give my mom some extra cash—like $1,000 or $2,000. It’s not consistent, but I try to help when I can.
There was one really meaningful moment a couple of years ago. My uncle wasn’t doing well, and my mom needed to fly to Korea to see him before he passed. She probably would’ve booked a super long layover to save money, but I didn’t want her to go through that. So I just paid for her flight outright.
Funny thing is, a few years later she was like, “You never give me money!” and I was like, Girl?! You just forgot! But it wasn’t about being thanked—it was about doing something important for someone I love.
How does your financial situation compare to your family’s?
My dad started working again a few years ago, so between both my parents, I think I make about three to four times what they do. It’s not something I bring up with them, though. They’re really financially sufficient in their own way and have always just been proud of me. I feel lucky that they don’t expect anything from me financially—it’s never been a, “Why aren’t you doing more for us?” kind of thing. I feel empowered to focus on my own goals.
What about your siblings?
It’s hard to say exactly. I might make about the same as my brother and his wife, but they live in Australia, so the cost of living and healthcare situation is totally different. They own a home and don’t need as high an income to live comfortably. It’s just such a different landscape.
My sister’s situation is also really different—she went down a completely unique path and runs her own business. I’m not totally sure how our incomes compare, but again, the lifestyle differences make it hard to measure.
Has the income gap ever impacted your friendships or relationships?
It’s never been an issue with my family, but with friends? Yeah, I do think about it. It’s like—some of my friends make $60K, some even $40K, and I’m sitting there making 10x that. I don’t think they expect me to cover anything, but I’m aware of the gap. Especially when we go out—like I’ll treat my family when they visit, but I’m not going to do that every time with friends. That would just feel weird.
I’m also super frugal by nature, so sometimes I’ll be like, “No thanks, not doing that,” even if I can afford it. I wonder if they ever think, “Why are we splitting this?” or “Why isn’t she covering it?” It hasn’t caused any issues, but the difference is definitely something I’m conscious of.
I used to be a Republican—which is so cringe for me now, but I get it. That mindset tells you: “If you help people too much, they’ll never learn to help themselves.” But that’s just… not how life works. People get sick. Things happen. Sometimes, the safety net matters more than we know.
Do you factor friendships into your budget?
Oh, definitely. Like, hosting things is my love language. I’ll throw bouquet-making nights and buy all the flowers and snacks. I’m just grateful my friends show up and want to be there.
For birthdays, I set aside $30 to $50 per friend, and March is always so financially heavy for me because so many of my close friends are Pisces, apparently. I’ll budget less for myself that month just to be able to gift generously. It’s all very intentional.
Even for events like murder mystery parties, I covered dinner and props. The only thing I asked people to pitch in for was the $60 game kit—and even then, it was $5 a person, more as a commitment fee than anything else. I didn’t want people to flake!
Have you ever received passive income, inheritance, or major financial gifts?
Nope. I mean, I got birthday money when I was younger—like $20 here and there—but nothing big or ongoing. I’ve really built everything I have from scratch, which is part of why I think I’m so intentional about how I spend it.
What do you wish more people understood about money?
Hmm. I guess… first, that privilege really shapes how people move through the world—how they present themselves, what anxieties they carry, how confident they feel. People who are anxious or stingy often come from scarcity, and it shows up in their behavior.
There’s this whole divide—capitalism vs. the working class, Democrats vs. Republicans—but I really believe in the importance of contributing to your community. I worked really hard to get where I am, but I still think about what it means to live in a society where we lift each other up.
Some people don’t understand why taxes should go to people who are struggling, but it’s like… not everyone started from the same place. Generational wealth is a huge factor. And it’s not just about money—it’s about the way you look, the opportunities you had, how people treat you.
I used to be a Republican—which is so cringe for me now, but I get it. That mindset tells you: “If you help people too much, they’ll never learn to help themselves.” But that’s just… not how life works. People get sick. Things happen. Sometimes, the safety net matters more than we know.
So yeah, maybe $3,000 or $10,000 of my income goes to programs I don’t directly benefit from. But maybe that helps someone else’s quality of life. And that affects me too, in the long run. Like when I leave New York and go somewhere less intense, I notice how much happier people are. That peace is contagious.
Just because someone else is happy doesn’t mean you’re losing anything. Their happiness might actually add to your life.
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