BC WildFIRE

Everyone knows communication is important, in life, in work, in love. But when do we actually learn what good communication looks like? Maybe our parents demonstrate it; however, we are not our parents, so what works for them might not suit us. Communication when pursuing FIRE with a partner is paramount. Scott Rieckens wrote about his concerns about approaching his wife; that she might think he's blaming her for their financial situation or become defensive when he mentions spending less. My partner is a bit of the opposite. He was already trying to come up with ways for us to save money; he didn't push them on me as I was still clearing my debt. Now that it's taken care of, he's very excited for our future. He's been talking about maybe moving into an old RV to live extra cheap, like other FIRE people have done, since rent is our largest expense. His aunt and uncle have a huge fifth-wheeler and they live comfortably in that most of the year. The problem was

We all have the normal side of our family, and the wacky/weird/cooky side. If you can't think of which part of your family is the odd one, you might be in for a bit of a surprise upon further self-reflection. My uncles on my mum's side are my cooky family, hands down. My dad's family is incredibly fun, supportive, tight-knit, and much larger. They're also two provinces away. That's not to say I love them less, know them less, or our relationship is somehow less. It's just a lot easier to get one whole side of the family together when they're only two cities away (give or take a ferry). When my ex and I broke up and I began to really look at my debt, I asked them for general financial advice, telling them I planned to have my debt dealt with right away. They reaffirmed what I was already thinking: 1. Decimate debt 2. Make sure you're contributing to your pension plan through work 3. Live frugally 4. Don't incur debt on depreciating assets 5.

Let's be honest. My story isn't original.  In fact it's probably pretty common in many ways. Most people these days look at "common" or "usual" as some sort of illness. In this age of perpetually inspired uniqueness, admitting one's commonality with your neighbour, whatever form that takes, feels like a bit of a failure somehow. My story is that I wasn't that good with money. I lived with a man for 7 years, my first real commitment, and he and I did not manage our money well. We both made good money for people in their early 20s, and I managed to get my two-year diploma for library and information technology without going into debt thanks to my parents putting aside an RESP. But at the end of the summer in 2018 when we split up, we had practically nothing saved and in fact both had some credit card debt. Thankfully, we had never integrated any of our finances together, so when I moved out, I took my bank account and my Visa with me and he kep

I remember the first time I thought of myself as an adult. My mum and I were talking and I disagreed with what she was saying. That definitely wasn't the first time; I was a teenager once and I naturally contradicted my mother as a deranged rite of passage quite often. But this time, I honestly didn't think that she was correct, without any malice or spitefulness, and the thought occurred to me; my mum might just be wrong, and I may be right. This moment came with a wave of realization as that thought blossomed into an idea; just because one of my parents say something, that does not make it necessarily correct. Suddenly, the frame at which I look at people of my parents' generation shifted from rather omniscient guidance counselors to just people, like me. I realized that I didn't have to defer decisions to them just based on their elder status, and that I could confidently make my way in the world without permission. I was in my mid-twenties when this happened. It