It has been a while since I shared an update. And now feels like a good time to share a little bit about life after FIRE. The last time I wrote here was 2020. Back then, I was deep in the FIRE journey. Saving. Investing. Dreaming. Planning for a life with more freedom.
I didn’t know exactly what that freedom would look like, but I knew I wanted it. More rest. More options. More time with the people I love.
This isn’t the start of weekly blogging again, but it is a moment to share what these past few years have taught me and where life has taken me since reaching financial independence and leaving my 19-year career in public service.
So let’s rewind a bit.
In 2023, I went to a conference in Puerto Rico hosted by Jannese Torres from the Yo Quiero Dinero podcast. I joined the VIP day, which meant being in a hot seat and getting asked some real questions.
The biggest one was simple, but it hit me hard:
I said a lot of words. None of them answered the question. Part of me knew that leaving wasn’t just about me. It was also about representation. I wanted other women, other Latinas, other first-gen folks to see that someone like us could actually do the work I was doing. I wanted clients in the court system to know there was someone on their defense team who grew up in the same neighborhoods they did. Low-income, Section 8, and similar family backgrounds.
But that day, I realized I had reached financial independence, but I was holding onto a job out of fear and habit. Don’t get me wrong, I truly enjoyed the work that I did. But I also had this other yearning. There was another group of people I wanted to be an example for. First-generation wealth builders. I texted my husband to ask how he’d feel if I left my job. That night, we talked. And we both knew it was time.
On the flight home, I wrote a list of everything I thought I needed to feel safe enough to leave my job. I had always been the main breadwinner of our household, so the idea of walking away felt huge. First, I needed to triple-check the numbers:
I had so many questions and fears I hadn’t quite addressed. In some ways, I felt like I was talking about FIRE in theory, but now it was time for me to live it, and I was afraid.
I talked to mentors. Folks from my local NYC FIRE Group . Continued conversations with my husband. I was in the spreadsheets more than ever and using every financial independence calculator available to test and retest worst-case scenarios. My body clearly didn’t trust the math.
I worked through this with a financial advisor, and we did a full breakdown of “what’s the worst that could happen?” My brain said the worst case was living in my car, eating cat food. But when we mapped out how many steps it would take to get there, it became clear that a lot would have to go wrong before that ever became reality.
That exercise gave me room to breathe.
Walking away wasn’t a clean leap. It was two weeks and many conversations after leaving the conference before I submitted my notice. The email sat in my draft folder for two days. I stared at the email for ten minutes before clicking send. I was saying goodbye not just to a job, but to financial security. I was giving up what most people aspired to. I had financial safety.
It was a shaky and emotional path I was choosing. And it was absolutely the right decision.
I thought once I left, I’d feel calm and free right away. In reality, the first few months were weird. No one tells you that you have to learn how to rest. My brain was still living in hustle mode long after my body finally had space. It took months to feel safe slowing down. I felt regret if I reflected on the day, and it wasn’t my most productive. “I should have cleaned out the hallway closet.” “Today you should have gone to the gym.” “Why didn’t you start working on your taxes?”
At first, my schedule looked like it did when I was working.
Sure I didn’t have 50 hours blocked off for my 9-5 and commuting time. But my schedule was packed. I didn’t know how to exist without being busy. After almost twenty years in public service, productivity shaped my identity. Turning that off takes time. I was filling my time with things I wanted to do: lunch with friends, time with family, learning a new skill, etc. But I didn’t know I could and should leave white space for just rest. Spontaneity.
It took me about six months to decompress. Daily naps were on my schedule, and my body needed them, and I wanted them.
Moving from accumulation mode to withdrawal mode brought up a lot of mind drama. I had learned to trust the math, but I didn’t fully trust myself. And let’s not forget the emotional connection I had to my first investments.
And now I was simply supposed to hit SELL?!
Yes, that’s exactly what’s supposed to happen. I knew the steps to take to do it, but I didn’t know how to do it.
I started by withdrawing money monthly. Only what I needed for the month. As I grew more comfortable, I shifted to taking out several months’ worth of expenses at a time. This is where I have landed. I’m not sure I’ll ever be the person who pulls a full year at once, and that’s okay.
FIRE is more emotional than people talk about. Once the dust settled from those first few months, I started noticing things I didn’t expect. Not big dramatic surprises, but quiet shifts that told me my life was changing. For the first time in my adult life, my body feels rested. FIRE gave me that. I still brag about becoming a napper.
Once I settled into my new normal, the surprises started to show up. Not big dramatic ones. Just quiet shifts I didn’t see coming.
One of the biggest surprises in my life after FIRE has been how my relationship with travel has changed. I thought I’d spend all my time on planes once I left my job. But once I didn’t need to escape work anymore, the urge to hop on a flight softened.
I still love traveling. But now it feels like something I want, not something I need. I even hesitated on a three-week trip to Portugal and booked it only two weeks before leaving. (I loved it once I was there, but I wasn’t rushing to leave my normal day-to-day.)
Another part of my life after FIRE has been spending more time with family, something I could never do this freely before. My family lives in Florida. I’m in New York. One of my biggest reasons for FI was to be able to show up more.
I’ve flown down for quick trips. I’ve stayed for longer stretches. I’ve had more real time with my parents, siblings, nieces, and nephews in these two years than in the previous decade. I was there to spend a few weeks while my mother had surgery. I was able to attend concerts, recitals, and sporting events, and participated in having lunch with a student several times.
I have more time than most of the people I love. Instead of stepping back, I leaned in. When scheduling time with friends, I let them pick dates and places. I go to them. I show up more. Because I can.
It feels good to nurture relationships in a season where I finally have space to do it.
These were not things I expected to notice in my life after FIRE, but they shaped my first year in ways I didn’t imagine. FIRE didn’t distance me from the people I love. It brought me closer. I had the time, energy, and presence to show up in ways I couldn’t before, and that shifted everything.
Entrepreneurship wasn’t part of my original FIRE plan, but it quickly became part of my growth. Entrepreneurship didn’t just challenge my skills. It challenged who I believed I was without a fancy title or a packed calendar. In many ways, FIRE stripped me down to my truest self, and entrepreneurship held up the mirror. Entrepreneurship has also shaped my life after FIRE in ways I didn’t expect. I didn’t expect to want to build something new. But I did. And here’s the thing: if you ever want to meet the raw and unfiltered version of yourself, try starting a business. It’s cheaper than therapy and twice as confronting.
I learned I had zero capacity for failure. Now this might sound weird since I left a very stable job to live off my investments, but I had almost no tolerance for risk. And entrepreneurship is helping build those muscles. Life after my 9-5 was all about learning new skills, finally taking a sewing or swim class now that I had time. But having a side hustle was calling me.
Not because I needed the money. But because I wanted to grow in a new way.
Entrepreneurship is not easy. It brings up every insecurity. Every doubt. Every question about who you are without a title or a steady job.
I had to learn how to:
• set boundaries with my schedule
• protect my energy
• avoid burning myself out
• push myself without using FI as an excuse to avoid discomfort
Being work optional also meant I could hide behind that freedom when something scared me. If something felt too risky or too uncomfortable, I’d tell myself, “Well, I don’t need to do this anyway.” That was a new kind of self-sabotage I had to confront. Some days, I used my FI status to hide from hard things. Other days, it gave me space to learn without panic.
But the growth has been incredible.
There are people in the FIRE world who will say you’re not really retired if you still earn money or run a business. I learned pretty quickly that retirement isn’t a single definition. It’s a choice to leave one identity behind and build a new one on your own terms.
Here’s my truth.
I became work optional. Everything I do now is a choice.
My version of FIRE was never about quitting everything forever. My version of FIRE is about:
• rest
• family
• freedom
• curiosity
• creativity
• meaning
I don’t rely on my financial coaching business to survive. I built it because I wanted to.
That is FIRE to me.
And hey, I love talking about money and investing, so it’s a win-win.
Don’t plan your FIRE numbers based on the fantasy version of yourself. If you love clothes or eating out or traveling, budget for that. FIRE doesn’t mean less joy.
I saved a year of travel money in cash before leaving my job. That made the early months feel so much easier.
The people who struggle most after hitting FI are the ones who didn’t think about what they wanted their days to look like. You don’t need a full plan. But you need a direction. Ask yourself, if I had a completely free Tuesday, what would I do with it? Who would I talk to? How would I spend my energy?
Leaving work means letting go of routines, validation, and structure. It takes time to adjust.
Your life will change. Your dreams will change. Your values will change. Let your version of FIRE grow with you.
Your version of FIRE will not look like mine, and that’s the beauty of it. If you are working toward your own life after FIRE, I hope my story gives you confidence for your next steps. I don’t plan to blog here weekly. But I wanted to share this update because Millers on FIRE is part of my story. It’s part of my heart. And it’s part of how I got here. If FIRE has taught me anything, it’s that freedom isn’t about dollars and cents. It’s about being intentional with the limited resources we do have: time, energy, and money.
Your journey matters, and support can make all the difference. If reading this stirs something in you and you’re on the FIRE path yourself, you don’t have to figure it out alone. Whether you want accountability, a clearer plan, or someone who understands the mindset shifts that come with this work, I’d be honored to walk with you. You can learn more about working with me here:
Financially Thriving Money Coaching Website
Thank you for reading. Thank you for being here. And thank you for walking alongside me through all the phases of this journey.
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