Baylor Wiggins
I am the guy who adds guacamole to my Chipotle bowl without flinching.
Baylor Wiggins
Not because I am rich, but because that $2 scoop of smashed avocado represents something far bigger than flavor. For me, the guacamole is everything I have fought to learn about money, resilience, and my future. While I did not grow up financially secure and my life challenges presented obstacles that limited my opportunities, they fueled my determination to persevere and ultimately become financially literate and help others do the same.
Throughout my youth, my family faced immense financial instability. We were constantly navigating what we did not have. One way to describe it would be, “We were more focused on getting by than getting ahead.” I was raised by a first-generation immigrant father whose limited English made integrating into American society difficult. This difficulty included his management of money. I watched my parents juggle jobs, bills, cultural expectations, and language barriers while trying to hold everything together at the seams. My father’s foundation, though imperfect, was what kept our family afloat until it was suddenly taken away. Before I ever dreamt about wearing a white coat, I had to navigate some of the darkest moments of my life: the unexpected death of my father.
His unexpected death left my mother and me emotionally shattered and financially destabilized. In the year that followed, I also lost two uncles and two grandparents. Grief did not come as a wave; it came as a flood and left me rapidly looking for answers. My mother was left without her partner, and I was left without my father. We had no financial safety net to fall into. We cut back on everything. We were forced to resort to using food stamps for groceries.
In addition, I quickly became isolated from my peers. I could not afford to go on trips or even go out to eat with them. Eventually, I lost friends. We prioritized groceries over holidays, and electricity over entertainment. There was no room for extras and no backup plan. I was left with a profound hole in my heart and a newfound responsibility to help hold the two of us together.
At only age 14, I refused to let this struggle define me. There was no ladder for me to climb, so I decided to build one. Despite feelings of despair, I realized that I needed to take an active role in supporting my mother as best I could. I did not want to be a victim of the circumstances of this crisis. I wanted to help, so I began to mow neighbors' lawns to contribute financially. I became an expert at rummaging through the day-old discounted bread rack at the grocery store. These small acts, though modest, gave me a sense of agency. They validated that effort, even in the darkest of moments, still mattered. As I emerged from this crisis, I became increasingly focused on learning more about finances, knowing that another obstacle would catapult us back to where we had focused to avoid.
When the COVID-19 pandemic hit and the world slowed to a crawl, I made a conscious decision to speed up. While many people at home spent their time baking sourdough or perfecting TikTok dances, I opened up a new kind of door: the door of becoming financially literate. I knew I wanted to pursue medicine, but before I got serious about MCAT prep, I decided to get serious about my finances.
Like any Gen Z kid facing a financial awakening, I turned to the modern oracle of information: YouTube. I binge-watched videos on personal finance, budgeting, and investing. After a few hours of watching Graham Stephan break down credit cards and compound interest like they were episodes of The Office and listening to Dave Ramsey yell at people for financing a Tesla on $30,000 salaries, I was hooked. A common theme echoed through everything I watched and read about finance: the best time to start was “yesterday.” The second-best time? Right now. That mindset lit a fire under me; I would be worse off if I waited than if I got started with something. I began investing—not just financially, but mentally. I read The Psychology of Money and Rich Dad Poor Dad.
A pattern emerged in the stories I was drawn to: the people who succeeded financially were not necessarily the highest earners; they were the most intentional with their time and the money they had. They budgeted. They spent less on what didn’t matter and invested in what did. They learned about real estate and creating multiple income streams. I saw that I did not need to have an inheritance or a six-figure salary to start making marginal, smart moves to set myself up for a brighter financial future. I didn’t grow up with wealth, but I had something just as valuable: time.
I used that time to build lifelong financial literacy—essential preparation for a career in medicine, one of the most costly paths to pursue. I began tracking my expenses with spreadsheets, learned the differences between a Roth IRA and a 401(k), and thought intentionally about my financial future. I took some of the money I earned from my on-campus job to get my “snowball” started. I opened a Roth IRA and set up automatic contributions of $50 a month, which felt like a lot at the time. I told myself this was a down payment on future peace of mind. I did not have much, but I had something significant: consistency.
As I continued building my financial savviness, I learned how I could use certain credit cards strategically. When it came time to spend thousands on medical school applications, I opened the Chase Sapphire Reserve, a card that comes with a massive intro bonus. I paid for my application fees with the card and paid it off in full. When the time came around to book trips for interviews, I found myself not having to panic about travel expenses. I used the countless points across all my cards and covered my trips in their entirety. I did not game the system; I studied it. I felt a sense of control over how I responded to my circumstances.
The first time I had enough saved to say yes when a friend invited me to Chipotle felt like a small but powerful win. When the cashier asked if I wanted guac, I said yes without hesitation. That moment became my personal mission statement: save wisely so you can say yes to what matters, even if it is just guac.
Today, I still track my spending. I still live frugally. I do it not out of fear, but as my choice. Every dollar saved or invested is a personal decision. Every choice moves me closer to a life built on purpose instead of panic. So yes, I am the guy who adds guac. I am also the guy with a Roth IRA and a stash of travel points.
And I’m just getting started.